


You Can Go Home Again, You Just May Not Like It

by GazDibMama



Category: Sons of Anarchy, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, I hate tagging, M/M, PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO NEW TAGS!!!!, more tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:45:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5806765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GazDibMama/pseuds/GazDibMama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where jax is never patched and leaves Charming at 19. He comes back at age 35.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge: Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This is very, very, oh so very, AU. Kind of. Sort of. Okay, maybe a lot. First, Thomas Teller never dies and is only eighteen months younger than Jax. Tara leaves six months after her and Jax graduate high school. Although a prospect, Jax is at a loss when Tara leaves, so Clay sends him on a 'walkabout' to get his shit straight. Instead Jax meets someone who changes everything.
> 
> Jax is never patched. The SOA canon happens, only with Thomas taking Jax's VP spot.
> 
> This is not beta'd at all. All mistakes are mine.

Prologue Part One: Present Day, New Orleans  
The ringing of his cel phone on the nightstand in the bedroom of their hotel suite brought Jax Teller out of his early afternoon sleep. Untangling himself from his wife's long limbs, he rolled over and cracked an eye to look at the number calling.

Fuck. This wasn't going to be good by any definition of the word. It was a number with a Charming area code. When he had left, or been exiled, depending on who you spoke to, nearly sixteen years earlier, he'd had almost zero contact with anyone from Charming. He'd chosen not to patch SAMCRO. His family, blood and otherwise, had chosen to disown him in return.

His wife stirred behind him. "Are you going to answer it or just stare at it?" She wrapped herself around him once again. He liked to joke that she was part octopus. She always just shrugged with a smile, saying it was his own damn fault he was "better than a body pillow", to which he would usually just roll his eyes and pull her closer.

"It's a Charming number, babe." He felt her still behind him. She'd been to Charming exactly once, and as she had said at the time when they left, she really hadn't found it to live up to its name. But then again, she had been the biggest, but truly not the only reason he'd chosen not to patch into the club, and she had taken the heat for it. He also knew that his wife still carried a shit-ton of unfounded guilt over his family casting him out. In almost sixteen years he hadn't regretted making that choice for one minute. Not that he didn't miss his family, both blood and SAMCRO. There were times he certainly did, but he knew at the very center of his being that he'd made the right decision for himself. And even on days when his wife drove him batshit crazy, she reaffirmed it for him daily.

"Then you should probably answer it. If someone from there is calling, they're not callin' to make idle chit-chat." The natural Alabama accent that his wife usually muted was coming out like it usually did when things got tense. Her voice was lower and huskier than normal. They'd been up 'til the early morning hours celebrating a friend's birthday and neither of them was twenty anymore.

He sighed and swiped at the screen to accept the call. "Hello." He kept his voice as neutral as he could.

"Jackie boy, that you?" Chibs's voice came on the line.

He untangled himself, again, from his wife so he could sit up. His wife let out a mildly put out huff and rearranged herself, once more weaving her legs in with his and resting her head on his torso. Friends joked about how his wife had no need for furniture, she had him. Neither of them tried to defend themselves, they had no defense for the truth. She did enjoy using him as a chair, couch, bed, whatever. And he certainly had no objections at all.

"Chibs?" Reaching over to the nightstand, he shook a Marlboro Black out of it's box. Lighting it, he took a deep drag and closed his eyes. If Chibs was calling it was beyond not good, it was catastrophic.

"Aye Jackie, it's me." Chibs sounded awful. He sounded like a man carrying the weight of the world on one shoulder.

As he exhaled the smoke from his lungs he opened his eyes. Even with the impending sense of doom he couldn't help but smile. Right in front of his face was his wife's raised hand, fingers at the ready for a smoke. While not motivated enough to get up and get her own damn smoke, she was opportunistic enough to take advantage of the fact that he had been. She took a quick drag of the cigarette and handed it back to him.

"Why are you calling Chibs? You do remember I was disowned, right? As a matter of fact, I was told I was dead to you all." He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice but it was impossible. He had been exiled and shunned because he had chosen not to become a Son.

"Jackie..." Chibs's voice broke a little. "Ye need to come home laddie..." The Scotsman's voice broke a second time, and though he wasn't positive, it sounded like the man was crying.

His wife must have sensed his tension because he could feel her legs grasp his a little tighter and the nails of the fingers that had been resting on his hip dug in a little. The small flare of pain grounding him, reminding him where he belonged. To whom he belonged.

"Jax, where are you and how long will it take you to get here?" All of a sudden Tig's voice was aggressive on the line and sounded nearly as wrecked as Chibs's.

"New Orleans." He took another drag of his smoke. "But we're not goin' anywhere until you tell me what the fuck is goin' on that has you callin' me after nearly sixteen goddamned years. You guys, my supposed family cut me off, not the other way around, so..."

"Gemma and Thomas are dead. Apparently Gemma never changed her will so part of the garage is yours along with half of the house. How long will it take for you to get your childish ass here? Take care of what needs takin' care of and then you can go back to whatever the fuck it is that you do. Think you can find it in your heart to do that little for your Mom and brother?" Tig sounded pissed.

He didn't even know where to fucking begin. "Where's Clay, why isn't he callin'?" If he didn't talk about Gemma and Thomas, it wouldn't be real yet. He wasn't sure he was ready for that.

"Dead. How long will it take for you to get here?" He'd forgotten how much like a dog with a bone Tig could be. "And before you ask, so are Piney, Opie, Otto and Bobby." Tig's voice was shattering in his ear.

He suddenly felt like he had taken a sucker punch to the diaphragm. He felt like he was getting hardly any oxygen. "What happened to Gemma and Thomas?" He couldn't bring himself to speak above a whisper. He couldn't call her Mom, not after he had called, trying to plead his case to her, and she had responded to his entreaty of "Mom..." with a cold tone. “I only have one son and I just watched him ride out of the lot with his club." And then hung up on him. That had been an ugly day.

Tig must have sensed how close to the edge he was because the voice that answered had lost its bite, but none of the grief. "Have you seen the news or read a newspaper in the last twenty-four hours?" Fuck. That could only be bad, the fact that Tig was sure it had made national news.

"No. But that's not unusual when we're here." And it wasn't. If they were in NOLA, they were celebrating something and anything other than whole world stopping news, they were out of the current affairs loop.

He gave his wife a pat on the ass to signal he was getting up. Getting out of bed, he wandered out into the living room of the hotel suite and fired up his laptop.

In all of the years of his exile, he had trained himself not to search out information on SAMCRO. In the beginning he rationalized it by saying he wasn't a masochist and wasn't gonna fucking torture himself. As the years had gone on, and the emotional wounds had scarred over, he had just become indifferent and just really did not give a fuck. Well, that and the fact that he and Cade had their own shit to deal with over the years, and it had kept them occupied.

"So you don't live there then?" Tig was grasping at straws trying to keep the conversation going. 

"No." He wasn't going to tell them that he and Cadence had no real, fixed home other than each other and the gunmetal gray '57 Chevy they crisscrossed the US and parts of Canada and Mexico in. There was a series of storage units strategically rented around the country that held some things they had gathered over the years but mostly served to house bikes (primarily warm weather places, his wife didn't like being on the back of a bike when it was cold. Or wet.) And give him space to work on the car when needed. There was also various PO and Safe Deposit Boxes, but no fixed residence. If they were somewhere they liked and were staying longer than a couple of weeks, they'd get a furnished month to month rental. Or stay with friends. Otherwise they moved the fuck on.

"Okay, then." Tig seemed resigned to his curtness. Until he knew what the fuck was going on, these people weren't getting shit from him. They had cast him out without a second thought, turned their backs and now they want to make conversation? That shit wasn't gonna fly with him.

His laptop flared to life and he quickly clicked on the news tile on the start page. Scrolling through the Sources page, he clicked on the tile for the Sacramento Bee with a slightly shaking hand. 

He thought, well, hoped, he would have to search, but no, there it was on the front page. As he skimmed the article from a headline that already had his blood running cold, he could hear his heart beating loud and erratic in his chest. He could hear his wife in the other room ordering coffee from room service. He could hear Tig breathing over the cel phone line.

He wrote fiction, kind of, and he could barely believe what he was reading. Thomas had killed their mother to get revenge for Gemma killing Tara, whom Thomas had married and had children with. Then the day after he kills Gemma, he kills two men, one an alleged dirty cop, the other an alleged crime kingpin, in broad fucking daylight, in front of dozens of witnesses. His brother, his once sweet baby brother, then led close to two dozen CHP and county sheriffs on a high speed chase that ended when Thomas purposely steered his bike into an oncoming semi, recreating their father's demise. What in the ever loving fuck had led to this?

"You found it." Shit, he must have said that last part out loud because Tig sounded even more wrecked than before.

"Yeah." He walked over and opened the curtains so he could look out onto the balcony that overlooked the Quarter. For a second he took comfort in the familiar cacophony coming up from the street. He was struggling with a hell of a lot of emotions and little real information on what had led to all of this. "We can be there in a day and a half, two days depending on how hard we push it."

As he turned back into the suite, his wife had come out of the bedroom with a hotel robe wrapped around her, her long, strawberry blonde hair hung in loose waves around a face that still took his breath away a little even after all of their years together. Raising a questioning eyebrow, she tossed him a pair of boxers to throw on before room service showed up.

He gestured towards the laptop as he tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could get into his boxers. 

"Yeah, okay." He was barely listening to Tig while he watched his wife reading the article. 

He knew when she was finished by the muttered "fuck me runnin'" that came from her lips as she looked up at him, shock in her dark blue eyes. He nodded grimly.

"We'll hold off on making the arrangements until you get here." There was a tone of mild relief in the SAA's voice. Although, hell, with what seems to be everyone he knew dead, Tig could be the fucking President for all he knew.

He saw no point in them holding off on making the funeral arrangements. They would know what Gemma and Thomas would want, probably more so than he would at this point. While he wanted the services to be held until he and Cade could get there, he trusted SAMCRO to do right by his mother and brother and told Tig as much. His wife nodded her agreement as she went to answer the door so room service could bring the coffee in.

"Any idea on when you might be on your way?" He looked at the clock in the living room. Two in the afternoon. He knew that his wife had a meeting at four with the manager of a small gallery here in the Quarter that wanted to do an exhibit of her photography. He also knew by the look on her face she was thinking of blowing it off and hitting the road ASAP. He wasn't going to let her do that. Not for these people. They had castigated her when he had turned his Prospect cut in. Gemma, in fact, had attempted to physically attack her, so no, he wasn't going to let SAMCRO or the situation there take something from his wife, his family.

"Cade's got a meeting at four. We'll get on the road sometime shortly after that's finished." He cleared his throat. He knew he should probably talk to his wife first, but he was 99.99 percent sure she would agree. She really didn't want a damn thing to do with Charming either. "Tig?"

"Yeah?" Tig had caught the uncertainty in his voice. "Whaddya need kid?"

"Are you..." He cleared his throat again, feeling like the kid Tig had just called him. Straightening his spine he took a deep breath. "Are you Pres now?"

"VP, Jax. Thomas elevated Chibs from VP." 

"Oh. I guess I need to talk to him then." He gratefully took the cup of coffee his wife handed him.

"Hold on a sec." He waited as he heard murmuring at the other end of the line. Then Chib's still rough voice came on.

"What do ye need Jackie?" His lips formed a small half-smile at the Scot's old nickname for him. 

"Can you have your lawyer draw up papers for me to sign my part of the garage over to the club? We've got no need for it, and well..." He didn't want to say that he just didn't want the ties to Charming any longer. They had shunned him and he had found a life outside of them and he wasn't going back. After his mother and brother were buried, and all of the legal shit was taken care of, he and his wife, their little family of two, were out. Forever.

"Ye sure ye want to do that Jackie? Why don't ye think about it on the way home and if that's what ye still want then we'll get it arranged." Chibs's voice sounded like he was talking to a child. Fuck that, time to school the man.

"First of all, I'm no longer a boy, so don't talk to me like one. Secondly, I have no use for anything that may tie me to Charming. It's not my home and hasn't been for a very long time." Cade came over to where he was sitting on the couch, and crawled into his lap. He set his coffee down and wrapped the arm not holding the phone around her. "You think you would feel any differently if you were sittin' in my shoes?"

There was a long silence followed by an almost pained sigh. "No Jackie, I probably wouldn't." There was another silence. "I'll get the suit to get the paperwork together. It'll be ready for ye when ye get here." He leaned his head on his wife's shoulder, tension leaking from him at the Scot's easy capitulation.

"Thanks." He wanted to be done with this phone call. He had known before he had ever answered it was going to be a clusterfuck, and he was right. "Like I told Tig, it'll be a couple of days before we get there. We're driving and it takes about thirty-thirty five hours if you push, it's Wednesday, we'll be there sometime early Friday evening." Putting a tone of finality in his voice.

"Aye, Jackie. We'll expect ye sometime around then." There was a sadness that he couldn't place in Chibs's tone, but fuck, he really didn't need any more shit crowding his head, it already had enough to deal with.

"Yeah. See you then." 

Disconnecting the call, he dropped his phone onto the couch cushion beside them and wrapped both arms around his wife's trim waist, turning her so she was straddling him. Resting his head on her chest, he took solace in her strong, steady heartbeat, the unique scent that was hers alone under the residue of smoke, booze, sleep, and sex. He closed his eyes as her fingers carded through his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp. 

They sat there like that, comfortable in the silence in a way only two people who had lived in each other's pockets for close to two decades could be. He was waiting for the tears to come, but they weren't and probably weren't going to anytime soon. Then he realized. He had mourned them all when he was nineteen. They really had been dead to him for years. While yes, they had existed, not one of them had been truly alive for him since he was told to go and never come back. He wasn't even sure they would be going back if there wasn't legal stuff to take care of. 

At nineteen he had been naive enough to think he could have it all. A life outside of SAMCRO with a girl that had, well, really just snatched his heart up into her crazy, capable, compassionate hands and refused to let go, and still have his family. At almost thirty-five, he knew better. Going back to Charming was a dangerous proposition. He could hear it in the weariness of Chibs's tone. In the clipped words from Tig. He just wasn't sure of the meaning. If it had to do with him or just the entire mess was weighing on them. Or both. He really hated not having enough information to even begin to wrap his head around anything.

His wife sensed the conflict in his head. She held him a little tighter and he felt her lips against his ear. "You and me, sugar." 

He turned his head and gave her a deep, possessive kiss. When they finally pulled away from each other, foreheads resting together, and every breath was a shared one, he looked into her eyes and smiled. "Against the world."

She nodded with a bright smile and he felt almost all of his tension drain away. They could do this. They could go back to Charming, bury his family and not get dragged into the mess that their lives and SAMCRO had seemed to become.

His wife, knowing her job of getting him to not freak out was done, hopped off of his lap, saying something about a shower. When the robe was off before she hit the bedroom, he knew that was his cue that she hadn't planned on showering alone. 

Swallowing down the rest of his coffee quickly, he followed his wife to the bathroom, grabbing a last bit of normality before they headed west for some final good-byes.

Prologue Part Two: Present Day, Charming  
Chibs closed the cel phone and laid it on the table in the chapel at Red Woody. Tig thought the man looked exhausted. Whatever the fuck Jax had said to the new President had delivered a verbal punch.

Then again, who the fuck knew? With everything that had gone down over the last five years or so, they were all fucking physically, spiritually, and emotionally spent. The last few months had been a nightmare of epic fucking proportions and they were feeling it something deep. Especially Chibs. He'd been close to Tommy, the two bonding in the years since Jax turned his cut in. Up until that time, the Scot had grown close to the older Teller boy and hadn't handled Jax's exile well. So this was a double-edged sword for the man and Tig knew he would do well to keep that in mind.

Chibs lit a smoke and gave him a tired look. "Lad said they'll be here sometime early Friday evenin'." The new President of SAMCRO ran a hand over his face. "Need to get a hold of the lawyer. Jackie wants to sign over his part of TM to the club."

He wasn't shocked by that revelation. Why would Jax even want part of TM? "Makes sense. I'll call the lawyer here in a bit. Did he say anything about the house?"

Chibs shook his head bitterly. "Nah, although after what he said about the garage, he may just want to burn the place down. Says he wants nothin' that'll tie him to Charming." He could hear the disappointment weave itself into the Scot's words.

He lit a smoke and exhaled towards the ceiling. He looked back over at Chibs who was staring off at a whole lot of nothing. He cleared his throat to get the man's attention. When Chibs looked back to him, he shrugged. "Can you really blame him?" When Chibs didn't say anything, he pressed on. "The way Clay and Gem ran that kid off when he made the decision not to patch in..."

Chibs looked up at him with surprise on his scarred face. "Don't remember ye stickin' up for the lad back then Tiggy."

He shrugged. "Not in front of the rest of the club, no. But behind closed chapel doors, just me and Clay?" He shrugged again, this time with a slight smirk. He had bitched Clay out about it. Everyone who sat at that table had a life before SAMCRO. They had all had things in their pasts that had led them there. Opie, Jax, and Tommy had never had any other choice, it was club or nothin'. That had never sat well with him. He had always felt that those three should have been allowed to test the world outside of SAMCRO first. Yeah, Clay had sent Jax on the walkabout that had led to the young man deciding not to patch in, but it hadn't really been about Jax finding what he really wanted out of his life, it had been to purge Tara from his system so he could come back and continue on the path to the gavel that Gemma and Clay had decided he was on. Too bad for them Fate had put a tall, leggy, gorgeous strawberry blonde in the kid's path. With that girl, just by looks alone, he wasn't sure he wouldn't have made the same damn decision Jax had. 

Then he gave Chibs a pointed look. "And I don't remember anyone coming to the kid's defense back then." And even though it had wrecked Chibs, he wasn't wrong. Not a single one of them had stood up to Clay and Gemma in front of Jax, or hell any of the others. All of them turned their backs on that kid and Chibs was lucky Jax hadn't hung up the second he heard that Scottish accent.

Chibs looked down at the table while he continued to look pointedly at the man. "Jax made a choice not to become a Son. That was his choice to make, and he doesn't sound like a man who has regretted that decision one bit." He slid his chair back from the table. "I'm goin' to go talk to Wendy and Nero. Jax said to go ahead and make arrangements. That we'd know better than he would. But he'd like us to hold off on the services until they get here."

Chibs looked up. "Yeah, should probably let them know Jackie is on his way."

As he was getting ready to open the door to leave chapel, he turned. "I know you're grieving Tom, we all are. Don't let that shit blind you to who Jax is now. He ain't club, doesn't want to be, and all of us need to respect that."

Without giving Chibs time to form a response he left the room and made his way out to his bike. As he rode away from Red Woody and into Charming, he looked around. Jax Teller was coming home to a place that while parts not looking so different, was a far different place than when he had left. Or more accurately put, been run out of town on a rail. Because that's what had happened, when one chose not to sugarcoat it. Jax had been disowned by his mother, brother, step-father, and extended family. They had earned whatever animosity that Jax may still carry.

Sitting at a stoplight, he shook his head with some regret and bitterness. Jackson Teller was coming home to bury his past and he already knew that there would be those who would try to keep him here. 

He hoped the intervening years had made Jax a strong enough man to walk away a second time.


	2. Chapter One: February 1998, Charming, SAMCRO Clubhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay and Jax have a talk.

Chapter One: February 1998, Charming, SAMCRO Clubhouse

"Jax, get in here."

Jax looked up from the pool shot he had been lining up to see Piney and Tig exiting the chapel. Tig looked uncertain and when he looked at Piney, the old man just gave him a pitying look that made his stomach clench.

He knew he'd been fucking up in the month that Tara had left Charming, or more to the point, him. She hadn't even given thought to any school around Charming so she could stay close to him.

Over the last month he'd constantly replayed the last six months with Tara in his head. He could now see that she had been slowly but surely distancing herself from him. Hell, she hadn't even asked him if he wanted to go with her. And the answer that he had given himself fucked him up even more. He'd been sure that Tara was the love of his life, but when he put the question to himself, would he have left with her, the answer was no. And he had been so obsessed with trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong that he'd been half-assing both his club and garage responsibilities.

He laid the pool cue on the table, signaling his forfeiture of the game to Chibs and headed towards the chapel. Chibs gave him a quick clap on the shoulder as he passed him by.

Clay closed the door behind them and gestured for him to sit in Piney's VP chair. As he sat down, he fumbled for the pack of cigarettes in his Prospect cut. Shaking one out, he looked up at Clay who looked both unhappy and concerned. Not a good combo.

Before his step-father could say a damn word, he pre-empted the man. "I know I've been fuckin' up Clay." Looking at the older man's steel blue eyes and granite jaw. "I'll get it together. It's just..." Trying to find a way to explain that he was losing his shit over a girl.

Clay raised a hand. "Yeah. You have been fuckin' up. So far it hasn't been too bad or nothin' that isn't an easy fix." Clay took a minute to light a cigar. Taking advantage of the moment, he lit his own cigarette, the first blast of nicotine and tobacco seemingly loosening his chest.

After exhaling the cigar smoke, Clay went on. "But that won't be the case forever. You need to get your head on straight." Instead of looking directly at Clay, his eyes tracked the combined smoke of the cigar and cigarette as it curled up to the ceiling. He finally looked at Clay who was puffing on his stogie while studying him. Clay sighed. "So here's what's gonna happen." Clay sat the cigar in the ashtray and leaned towards him. It took a lot not to scoot back. "You're gonna go on a walk-about and get your shit together. When you're ready, you come back and we'll trade that Prospect cut for a real patch."

He sat there, absolutely fucking stunned. He was being told to leave? His home? His family? Other than a short stint in Juvie, and even there he had Ope, he'd never been away from his family or the club, well, ever. He really wasn't sure if what he was feeling was fear or excitement.

Clay must have understood the myriad of emotions that must have crossed his face before he could school it back to the cocksure arrogance that he usually cloaked himself in. The sternness softened and Clay reached over to grip his shoulder. "You act like I'm runnin' you out of town on a rail. That ain't it son." Clay grinned. "I'm tellin' you to take some time and figure shit out before you get yourself or any of the rest of us hurt." Clay shook his head ruefully. "Go see some of the country. Get wasted. Fuck some girls that aren't croweaters, sweetbutts or strippers. Just spend a little time existing."

He released the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. Basically Clay was telling him to go take a road trip and sow some oats. That actually didn't sound all that bad. Spend some time just bein' him. Not JT or Gemma's son. Or Clay's step-son. Not Thomas's older brother. Get past not being Tara's boyfriend. Could be cool. Too bad Ope couldn't go with. Donna bein' knocked up kinda put the kibosh on even askin'.

Looking back over to Clay who was now sitting back, relaxed, in the chair that had belonged to his father since the day the club was founded until his death a little over two years earlier, he nodded. "Does Mom know about this or do I get to break it to her?"

Clay smirked a little. "You're off the hook. I'm sure as shit neither brave nor crazy enough to suggest something like this without..." Clay chuckled. "Let's call it consulting, her first."

He snickered a little at the thought of that conversation. Gemma Teller-Morrow was a formidable woman to say the least. He loved his Mom, but had to admit the idea of time without her meddling or trying to meddle in nearly every aspect of his life would be, well, awesome. She lived for SAMCRO and sometimes it felt like it was the only acceptable option in her eyes. He loved the irony of it. Most mothers worried about their sons becoming criminals. His worried that he and his brother wouldn't. A little nuts, right?

Clay arched an eyebrow. "Yeah. You're welcome."

"Guessing she wasn't too gung-ho about the idea?" Not that he was expecting her to jump up and down with joy, but he wondered how bad she actually took the idea of the walkabout.

Clay shrugged. "Not thrilled, no. But she understands." Clay smiled. "Plus, she's still got Thomas to keep in check. So, it's not like she won't have enough on her plate."

Wasn't that just the fuckin' truth? His younger brother had turned seventeen back in November and decided he was done bein' the baby. Thomas announced he was quitting school and was gonna prospect for the club. He'd tried to talk some goddamned sense into his brother, telling Thomas that Dad wouldn't have wanted Thomas to quit school to prospect for the club. That could wait 'til he had a diploma.

But of course Gemma overruled him, refusing to even talk about it. So his brother had dropped the fuck out and was prospecting for the club and working at the garage with the rest of them. But with all of it, Thomas also dove head first into the 'sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll' portion of the MC life. Not that he was against any of those things by any stretch of the imagination, but it was driving Gemma crazy. Which in turn, meant that he was driven crazy. Why she thought that an almost nineteen year old should police his seventeen year old brother was beyond him. Well, not really.

He got it. Thomas was her baby and since surviving a childhood of ill health and a couple of near death experiences, Gemma clung to Thomas just a little tighter than she did him, and Thomas played it for all it was worth. It didn't bother him now as much as it had when they were younger. Now that he was older, and in the couple of years since their father died, he's seen the more manipulative side of their mother and even though he pushes it aside, he's started to feel a little wary around her at times. 

Of course his Mom would blame Tara for his evolving feelings about her instead of looking at her own behavior. Like marrying Clay. Yeah, Clay and his Mom had always been close, had always gotten along well, but sometimes he was sure that she'd hooked up with and subsequently married Clay to keep her place as Queen of SAMCRO, and to assure that him and Thomas would take the leadership of SAMCRO as the birthright she saw it to be. Sometimes it really felt damn near Shakespearean. Last year, in his senior English class they had read 'Hamlet'. That fucking play hit far too close to home for his tastes.

Clay cleared his throat, dragging him out of his head. He seemed to do that more lately, retreat into his own head, barely paying attention to what was going on around him. Fuck, Clay wasn't wrong. He needed to get his shit together and he really wasn't gonna be able to do that here.

He glanced over at his step-father, who had a knowing look in his eyes. "You gettin' it now son?"

Feeling some heat on his cheekbones, he nodded. "Yeah. Guess my head's been anywhere but here lately. Maybe some time alone is a good idea." He gave Clay a grateful smile. "Thanks for not bein' a dick about all this."

Clay chuckled a little. "You're welcome." Then the chuckles stopped. "But if this shit keeps up after you come back, you'll find out how big of a dick I can be."

He swallowed. He was quite aware of how dangerous Clay could be and what a prick the man was when provoked. I wasn't something he really cared to experience first hand. "Gotcha."

Clay slid his chair back and got up. "Let's get home and let your Mom and Thomas know you're going. You could probably get underway in the next couple of days."

He gave Clay a slightly incredulous look. He didn't think he was that under the gun to get gone. He wanted a little time to get somewhat of an idea of a plan together.

Clay shook his head with an understated chuckle. "The sooner you go son, the sooner you come back and get that patch."

He smiled slow and easy at that idea. "Hell yeah."


	3. Chapter Two: Febuary 1998, Charming, SAMCRO Clubhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jax says good-bye before leaving for his walkabout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd. All mistakes are mine.

The next few days were a blur of activity for him. Going over his bike. Deciding on some sort of initial direction so he'd know what to pack. He had a vague notion of heading south then east. Catch onto Route 66 and ride that for a while. It seemed to him, anyone who wanted to call themselves any kind of traveler, needed to take that road trip at least once in their life.

The sun was bright and shining in his hungover eyes. The previous evening, his last night in Charming, the club had an impromptu going away party. He really hadn't meant to get so wasted, but Tommy and Opie kept pouring shots down his throat, the two of them mildly jealous that he was getting to leave the nest.

He looked over at his brother, who was sitting at a picnic table, his head resting on his arms. "What? Your pussy ass can't stand up long enough to give me a hug goodbye?" He chuckled despite the raging pain behind his eyes. The coffee and Advil would kick in soon. Or so he kept telling himself. "Remember dude, you were the one pourin' the shots, so I don't want to hear any bitchin', now give me a hug goodbye so I can go deal with Mom." He tossed his mother a good natured grin to which she replied with a one finger salute and a smile.

Thomas swung around and stood up. His younger brother was nearly as tall as he was. He always laughed when people told him how much he looked like his Dad and Tommy looked like Mom. He didn't really see it, because to him, Thomas was the spittin' image of JT, except he had Gemma's coloring. He smothered a smile at how green around the gills his baby brother looked. Maybe the kid would finally learn to slow down a little on the booze.

His little brother threw his arms around his shoulders and pulled him in. He reciprocated the hug tightly. "I'll be back soon bro." He laughed in Tommy's ear. "Somebody's gotta keep your ass in check."

Tommy snickered as he let go. "Yeah, you let me know as soon as you find someone who can." His baby brother pulled him back into another hug. "You watch yourself bro. Be safe. Love you."

He gave his brother a last squeeze. "Love you too, bro."

His brother pulled away for the last time and schooled his hungover features into feigned indifference. "Better go say goodbye to Mom. That way you might make it out of the lot before sunset." Tommy gave him a smart-assed grin. "Plus, if I'm gonna cover your ass at the garage, I need a couple more hours of sleep."

Their mother's voice made them both smile. "Oh, there's no 'if you're gonna'. It's you are going to cover for your brother at the garage." There was an amused finality to her voice. She gave Thomas a kiss on the cheek. "But you can go back to bed for a couple of hours. You'll be useless to me if all you're doin' is pukin' in a trash can." She gave Tommy a pop on the ass as he covered the grin on his face with a hand. "Now go, so I can say goodbye to your brother in peace."

Tommy grinned and gave their mom a quick kiss on the cheek. "Yes, ma'am." Then as he was walking back into the clubhouse, Tommy turned around and gave him a slight salute and another snarky grin. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Then disappeared inside.

He heard his mother's amused sigh behind him. He turned to see a slightly sad smile on her face. He couldn't help the small eye roll he gave her. "C'mon, Mom, don't act like I'm goin' away forever. It's just gonna be a few weeks."

His Mom gave him the eye roll right back. "And I'm your mother. I can act any damn way I choose to." Wrapping him in a tight hug. "Be careful."

He hugged her back just as tightly, realizing that for the first time he would be alone and on his own. "I will."

Letting go, his Mom took a step back and leaned on the edge of the picnic table. "I also expect you to check in with me on a regular basis."

Stuffing the urge to roll his eyes again, he just nodded and reacched in to give his Mom another hug.

As they broke apart, he saw Clay come out of the clubhouse. His mother, giving him one last kiss, went back inside, leaving him and Clay alone.

Clay gave him a slight smile. "You ready?"

"Yeah. Hopefully this hang-over goes away soon."

Clay chuckled and then reached into his cut and pulled out an envelope, handing it to him. "Here's some extra cash. SAMVEG is expecting to see you tonight. The Albuquerque chapter is expecting you sometime in the next couple of weeks." His step-father cleared his throat. "Have some fun. Clear your head." Clapping a hand on his shoulder. "And come back in one piece." Pulling him for a hug. 

"Thanks Clay. Tell Mom I'll call when I reach Vegas." Letting go of the older man.

"I'll do that. Make sure you check in with her." Clay grinned. "That way I get a little peace. Now get out of here."

Grinning he went over to his bike and swung a leg over, getting settled in. Starting the bike, he gave Clay a last wave and pulled out of the lot.

When he made it to the outskirts of town, he was shocked to see a lone biker waiting.

Pulling along side, he couldn't hide the grin at seeing his best friend sitting there. "What the hell?"

Ope grinned. "Told Donna I was gonna ride with you until Bakersfield."

"Then let's go." Revving the bike for a second before taking off. A moment later, out of his peripheral vision, he saw Ope's bike come parallel with his and they were picking up speed.

As they passed the 'Welcome to Charming' sign, he felt a surge of freedom that he'd never felt before. And it felt fantastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've enjoyed!


	4. Chapter Three: Present Day, Charming, Tom Teller's House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tig talks with Nero and Wendy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, not beta'd. All mistakes are mine.

As he pulled into Tom's driveway, Tig could see Nero peer out through the kitchen window. Nero looked about a decade older than he had just a couple of days ago, but that wasn't a shock, the man had just lost the woman he loved along with the man he was starting to look at as a son. This had to be killing the man.

Shaking it off as he stowed his helmet, he made his way to the front door. Before he could even knock, Nero opened it with a wan smile. "Wendy finally fell asleep. She's taking this pretty hard." Nero led him to the kitchen.

"I think we're all taking it pretty hard." Sitting down at the table. he really didn't want to add to Nero and Wendy's stress and grief, but they had to know.

"What brings you here Tig?" Nero sounded as tired as he was.

It was time to bite the bullet. He had no idea if either Nero or Wendy even knew Jax existed. "Chibs tracked down Jax Teller." Watching Nero's eyes widen in surprise. Apparently the man knew exactly who Jax was. "Jax told me that we should go ahead and plan services for Gem and Tom, but would like us to wait until they can get here to have them." He took a breath. "He also wants to sign his half of the garage over to the club."

"Tom signed the garage over to Wendy and the boys. How..." 

"Gemma. Her will left half the garage to Jax. Same with her house. I'm sure Tom knew it." He shook his head. "I'm sure he figured that Jax wouldn't be interested and wouldn't challenge a damn thing."

Nero looked unsure. "I suppose." Getting up from the table Nero poured himself a cup of coffee. Raising the pot in his direction. "Coffee?"

He nodded gratefully. It had been a long couple of days. "Thanks." As Nero handed him a cup. He looked around. "Where are the boys?"

Nero smiled and for a second it was genuine. "Venus came and picked them up about half an hour ago. Said they didn't need to be cooped up in a house of mourning. She said something about a park and lunch."

He couldn't help the grin on his face. His old lady was steppin' up in a big way. "Good for her."

Nero smiled back, but refrained from saying anything. At this point in his life he could give a fuck what anyone else thought. He loved Venus and Venus loved him, and Venus's dick was of no one's concern but theirs. Even with a cock, Venus was more woman than most women he knew.

"What's he like?" Nero's voice was hesitant, like Jax was still a taboo subject.

"Don't really know. I just knew the kid." He smiled a little. "And the kid was an awful lot like his old man. Smart, thoughtful, a little soft, especially when it came to family." He thought for a minute. "The man I spoke to didn't seem soft at all."

"Being disowned will do that to you." Nero sighed. "That was one of Gem's biggest regrets. That she didn't make things right with him."

"Tom's too." Wendy's voice was rough behind him. "For a long time Jax sent him birthday cards and random letters. Tom said the first few years he just threw them out. He was so angry that his brother chose some snatch over his family. Later, he understood." Wendy's voice mournful. 

Nero looked at Wendy, and he could see Nero's eyes were a little sad. "You should go try to rest chica. While the boys are gone." He was with Nero on that one, Wendy looked like crap. And a heartbeat away from using again.

She shook her head. "Not with the places my head is going right now." She turned to him. "I'm guessin' Jax Teller is coming here?"

"For the funeral's chica. And I think that's all." Nero looked at him.

He sighed. "That's the impression he gave us. He wants to sign over whatever Gem left him, have the services, and be gone."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Does he know about the boys?"

He shrugged. "I would guess so. I think he read the Sac Bee. I know they mention that Tom and Tara had kids. But he didn't mention them." Which didn't surprise him. He was sure Jax was way to busy trying to assimilate what had happened with Gem and Tom.

Wendy relaxed a little, and then he got it. She was afraid of Jax wanting custody of the boys. He reached over and grabbed her hand and gave it a quick squeeze before releasing it. "Hey. The boys are yours. That's what Tom wanted and I don't see Jax ever trying to go against that." He really had no idea, but if it made Wendy feel better at this point, he could live with that.

She nodded while wiping away tears. "Yeah. Okay." He nodded approvingly as Nero wrapped an arm around her.

Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair. "So, do you guys just want SAMCRO to make arrangements, or..."

Wendy and Nero looked at each other for a moment and he could see the answer before Nero even opened his mouth. The two of them were too fucking raw to deal with arrangements and the boys. And it was far more important that they hold it together as much as they could for the boys. "I think it would be better for everyone if you guys handle them."

Standing up, he nodded. "Okay. I'll let Chibs know. Jax and his wife aren't due 'til Friday night. Figure hold the services Monday? Give everyone a little time to adjust."

Nero looked at Wendy and then back to him. "Probably not a bad idea."

"Yeah." Nero walked him to the door. He put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "You guys call me if you need anything. I mean anything. You hear?" Then glanced back towards the kitchen. "Take care of them."

Nero gave him than wan smile again. "Yeah. Keep us in the loop."

"Yeah." As he closed the door behind him. 

Getting on his bike, he shook his head. He hadn't even thought of the boys when he was talking to Jax. He had no idea if Jax had kids of his own, or well, any goddamned thing about the man now other than they had found them in New Orleans, where they apparently did not live. 

This was shaping up to be another in the long line of clusterfucks that have seemed to plague SAMCRO over the last few years. Fan-fucking-tastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've enjoyed. All comments, concerns and constructive criticism welcome.
> 
> Also, this is half a heartbeat away from becoming a Supernatural crossover. Yea or Nay?


	5. Chapter Four: Present Day, I-55 North, Mississippi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jax calls in back-up that trumps all back-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, not beta'd. All mistakes are mine.
> 
> So, this totally turned into a Supernatural crossover, I couldn't help myself. Tried not to do it, even have a chapter where I don't, but it's not as good, and certainly not as much fun. And that's pretty much good enough for me.
> 
> This runs screaming away from Supernatural canon at the end of S5 right before Sam says yes to Lucifer. 
> 
> You've been warned.

It was a little past ten in the evening as they were heading north from New Orleans. They had managed to get out of the city a couple of hours earlier. Cade's meeting had gone well, she was going to have ten to fifteen photos in the exhibit along with five other photographers. 

She hadn't said much about the Charming situation, but he knew she was anxious as all hell about going back there. She had not been treated well, by anyone, when she was there last and the thought of going back there was fucking with her even if she refused to acknowledge it.

But he had a plan. Maybe. It depended on if Sam and Dean Winchester were in the middle of a hunt, or if they were enjoying some downtime. He had his fingers crossed it was the latter.

They had met Sam and Dean, along with their father John, a couple of weeks before Cade and Dean's twentieth birthday, roughly four months before his. Man, was that a fucking eye-opener. All of the things that he'd thought were horror stories, legends, and myths were actually fucking real and really went bump in the dark. His wife wasn't as shocked, but she believed in ghosts and spirits all along.

He had scoffed at the Winchester's right up to the moment a fucking werewolf had tried to attack Cade. Lucky for them both he'd had the presence of mind to lift the gun Dean had shoved in his hands a couple of hours before the attack and shoot the fucker in the face.

When it was done, John had looked both him and Cade over, asked what their plans were, and after calling him an 'insolent little shit', had offered to train them in the hunting life. It was kind of a natural fit. The way he'd been raised had left a natural inclination towards the outskirts of society, and at the time, less than a year removed from being outcast by his family, and Cade, less than two years from losing hers in a car accident, they had agreed.

Over the last fifteen years, the four of them had been through a lot. Both separately and together. Sam leaving the family fold to go to Stanford and get his 'normal' life and then having that go up in flames, along with his fiancée Jess. John selling his soul so Dean could live. Dean selling his so Sam could live. Dean going to Hell and then brought back so that he and Sam could be meatsuits for the apocalyptic throwdown between Michael and Lucifer. Dean had said no, but Sam had been getting ready to say 'yes' and enact his plan to jump in the pit with Lucifer riding along, when the man Himself, looking more like an awkward lush than the Almighty he really was, showed up and shut shit down like a boss. Or better put, a boss acting on the orders of one very angry Cade. He really hadn't thought his life could get stranger than having God, or Chuck as He calls Himself, tell him he has one very pretty, but bossy wife. The only reply he could think of at the time had been to laugh, because fuck if He wasn't wrong. 

Chuck hadn't stopped all Supernatural activity, there were still all sorts of evil creatures running around, demons still bartered for human souls, angels still did whatever the fuck it was they did. It was just that both sides now knew that Daddy was paying attention again, so the trying to end the human race had lost it's luster. As Cade said, the whole damned thing seemed like one big ploy to get an absentee parent to pay the fuck attention. 

After sending Lucifer and Michael into the Pit to duke it out for a few millennium. Chuck sent the four of them to Lebanon, Kansas of all places, where they found a bunker from WWII that was a hunter's wet dream. Lore, weapons, and the space to live and train. Sam and Dean had been based there since the moment they'd set foot in it. He and Cade stayed there on and off, but they really were rolling stones, they liked the road. Plus, while she was fine with the bunker at night, Cade didn't like it during the day. She needed sunshine and that was something that the bunker lacked.

If he was gonna call anyone to help with this Charming clusterfuck it was going to be Sam and Dean. They had other friends, both in and out of the hunting life, but Sam and Dean were family. While Thomas and Ope couldn't really be replaced, Dean and Sam did a hell of a job. And Cade, who had been raised an only child, finally had brothers. Hell, her and Dean were, taking time differences into account, born twelve minutes apart (Dean was the elder, as he was always quick to remind her). She called the two of them 'Cosmic twins'. Dean rolled his eyes and called her a "fuckin' hippie" with grin. 

As the last strains of a song he hadn't been listening to faded into a commercial, he looked over to his wife, who was staring off into the darkness rolling by. Her whole body was laced with a tension that set his teeth on edge. He'd offer to just drop her at the bunker and make a lightning trip out to Charming, deal with the legal shit and bolt, but he knew that she'd refuse before he even got the sentence out of his mouth.

Swiping the screen of his phone, he hit the contact icon for Dean's cel and put it on speaker. When Dean answered, he could see the tension start to leave Cade's posture.

"About fucking time you called. Sam's been dying to have his estrogen moment for hours now." Like Dean didn't sound half beside himself.

"Fuck you, jerk. Like you haven't been pacing the floor." Sam sounded offended in the background.

He needed to rein this in, and fast. These two could go from bicker to fight in no time flat. And lose the plot while doing so. They were kind of on a schedule, so..."I'm sure you've both been driving each other up a wall, so, yeah, I'm guessin' you caught the news?"

"Sam found it this morning. I held him off because the text Cade sent me about tequila was close to five this morning." He looked over at his wife, who shrugged and started looking at her phone. He had to remember to confiscate that thing when she decides to get her drunk on. A second later Cade giggled.

"Yeah." He could hear the fuckin' smirk on Dean's face. "So, I held emo-boy..."

"I'm thirty-one Dean..."

Dean went on like Sam hadn't spoken. "Off well, until now. 'Cause dude, he had the phone in his hand, ready to emo."

There was a sound of a slight scuffle, and then Sam's voice was the predominant one. "How'd you find out?" Doing the sincere thing.

"Chibs tracked me down. Guess Gemma left me half the garage and house. Gotta go out there to sign that shit over to whoever the fuck wants it." He knew he sounded bitter and he was. They had exiled him and then Gemma pulls this shit, making him go back to a place he never wanted to return to. "Told him we'd be out there by Friday night." Hopefully Sam and Dean would hear the unspoken request.

"How much have you looked into what happened?" Sam sounded wary. He wasn't sure if it was over what Sam had found out, or his reaction.

"Other than the Sac Bee, not at all. Cade had a meeting about exhibiting some of her photos. I was concentrating on that." Plus, he really wasn't sure how much he wanted to know. He had the feeling this may be one of those times the less he knew, the better off they'd all be.

"Dude, the Sons are basically at the apex of a fucking gang war. The info I found made it seem like maybe your brother tied all of those loose ends up, but I know I'd feel a fuck-ton better if we went and had your backs." Sam sounded determined.

"Gotta go with emo-boy on that one." Dean's voice in the background. 

He looked over to his wife, who was finally relaxed. Reaching over he gave her hand a quick squeeze. "Yeah, thanks." He wasn't even gonna try to pretend that this wasn't the result he wanted.

"Hey." Dean's voice was the predominate one again. "You two didn't really think we'd let you deal with this on your own, did you? 'Cause that's just fucked up after everything we've been through."

His wife finally deigned to speak. "No, we knew you'd have our backs, it just never hurts to say thanks." Then grinned at him. "Even to you."

Dean sputtered as Sam howled with laughter in the background. "Revenge is a bitch Cade, remember that."

Winking at him, he smiled knowing that his wife had Dean's number. "Then I guess you don't really need one of Stella's pies..." There was a bakery in Lincoln that had, according to Dean one of the most perfect apple pies in the country. And they would be there in roughly ten hours.

"Did I say something about revenge? Must be a sugar imbalance." Dean sounded almost appropriately contrite. "You stopping in Lincoln?"

"Yes, you suck up." Cade was back to herself, which meant winding Dean up was an opportunity not to be passed up. "Gotta stop and pick something up and shower and stuff like that. Maybe we'll have time to stop at Stella's..."

He knew they'd be stopping at Stella's, and he knew they were getting ready to hit a stretch of road where cel service became spotty. "Apple or cherry Dean?"

"Surprise me. Meet you in Grand Island, say one tomorrow afternoon?" Dean's voice was already breaking up.

"Yeah, we'll call if there's a change. See you then." Ending the call. Shoving his cel into his flannel pocket, he pulled his wife over to him and wrapped his arm around her, other hand on the wheel, flying down the highway. Even in a cage, there really was no better feeling. It made him feel nearly bulletproof.

"It's gonna be fine babe." Giving his wife a little squeeze. "We'll get there, sign the papers, deal with the funerals, and then get the fuck out. No hassles."

"Isn't it pretty to think so." Cade gave a sad laugh. "But I have the feeling it isn't gonna be that easy, sugar." She wrapped an arm around his torso as she hooked her chin on his shoulder. "No matter how much we want it to be." Kissing his cheek. "Wake me up in a few hours, so I can take over driving. So you can at least pretend to sleep." Sliding down to use his thigh as a pillow.

"Sure darlin'." Knowing that he'd probably not. Normally, he'd do it, no problem. He just wasn't sure he really felt like sleeping anytime soon. If he did, he had the feeling his dreams would be less than pleasant. And he really hated having nightmares in the car. They usually ended with him waking up because he would flail and hit himself on something, including one time, his elbow on the back of Cade's head. Funny enough, that actually hurt his elbow more than her head.

Stroking his wife's hair, he pushed down on the accelerator a little more, giving a little satisfied hum at the purr from Betty's engine. He felt a little better now that he knew Sam and Dean would have their backs in Charming. Plus, they would be in Lincoln in about ten hours, and Dean and Cade weren't the only ones who looked forward to Stella's.

Four words. Chocolate Sour Cream Cake. 

Pushing their speed again, he hoped his wife was wrong and that this wouldn't end up being the clusterfuck it seemed destined to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you're enjoying it! Feel free to leave any comments, concerns, constructive criticisms, whatever...
> 
> Sincere thanks to those who have left comments and kudos!
> 
> Also, the bakery in Lincoln doesn't exist. There used to be a diner downtown called Kuhl's. Stella was one of the owners. All pies and cakes were baked daily from Stella's scratch recipes. It was a favorite of my Dad's and a staple of my childhood through my twenties.


	6. Chapter Five: Present Day, The Bunker, Lebanon KS.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean discuss what's going on with Jax and Cade, and the boys receive a call from Bobby with further information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, not beta'd. Any and all mistakes are mine.

Dean sat his phone down on library table after disconnecting from Jax and Cade. He looked over to Sam, who looked as anxious as he himself was feeling. “They didn’t sound great.” He shook his head. “But they sound better than I expected them to.”

Sammy sat down in the chair that was in front of the laptop. “I just can’t believe Jax didn’t look into it any further. That’s not like him.” Sam was perilously close to ‘bitch face’.

He shrugged. He could. When they had met Jax and Cade, Sam had been fifteen and in his ‘I hate you all and I hate this life’ phase. Sam had no idea of what Jax’s family had done to Jax and Cade. If someone pressed him about it, he’d have to admit that he was shocked Jax was going anywhere near the situation. 

But they were, so he and Sam would have their backs. Cade was the closest thing he and Sam had ever had to a sister; and Jax was both a buddy and a brother. When God tells you that the four of them were meant to meet, meant to bond; a guy just has to roll with it. Better Jax and Cade than some self-righteous douchebags who had no idea of fun at all.

“Dude, the number those fuckers did on him and Cade, I’m not surprised he’s not really that curious.” He thought about it for a second, Sam wasn’t really wrong, it wasn’t like Jax to walk into a situation without knowing every damn detail he could find. “Then again dude, that headline alone would be enough to put him in shock.” He sat down and took a drink of his beer. “That’s why he called us Sam, to have their backs. He knows neither one of them are thinkin’ straight.”

Sammy stretched his mile-long legs out in front of him and folded his hands over his torso. “They both died violent deaths Dean.” Sammy looked at him sadly. “You know what that can mean.”

He sighed. He hadn’t really wanted to think about it. But yeah, he knew. He also knew from Jax’s description of the town and his own drive through when he was in the area spying on Sam when he was at Stanford, that salt and burns would be nearly impossible. “I know Sam.”

But of course Sam wasn’t going to let it drop. “Not only that, but what if these other gangs decide that Jax is there for a little payback?” Sam shook his head. “Anyone looks up Jax and Cade is gonna find the same laundry list of shit that they find on us.” His brother had gone from sad to paranoid. “This is just a shitstorm waiting to happen.”

“Whaddya want me to say Sam? That it won’t be?” He sat his beer down before he was angry enough to slam it down. No need to waste good beer. “It will probably be fucked from the second we get there until the second we leave. But we’ll have their backs. We won’t let Jax do anything stupid and we’ll make sure that Cade doesn’t have a PTSD flashback.”

Sam’s eyes widened because there had been no flippancy to his tone. “Was it that bad?”

It wasn’t really his story to tell, but he knew that neither Jax nor Cade would ever tell it. Not to Sam. As Jax once said, there was no reason to upset Sam with things he couldn’t do shit about. But Sammy needed to know enough now to at least navigate the fucking situation.

“Yeah Sam. It was really that bad.” He shuddered a little. “Cade was treated badly enough that even a year after it happened, just thinking about it could give her the shakes.” He knew he ragged on Cade about being a ‘fuckin’ hippie’, but he knew he was just as soft at his core as she was. He’d just had most of it conditioned out of him by his father from the time he was five. And he knew how rattled he’d have been if treated that way. Even after John Winchester’s conditioning. And Cade had been raised as a loved only child who was the apple of her parents’ eyes. What happened had devastated her; when she fell in love with Jax, she’d hoped to regain a family. What she got was her man disowned and exiled. “And not just by Jax’s Mom and brother. That whole fucking MC treated her like shit.” He also knew that Cade hadn’t told Jax some of what had happened. Not because she didn’t trust him, she just hadn’t wanted her husband to murder anyone on her behalf.

And he wasn’t gonna deny that a part of him hoped that any of the douches that were still around from back in Jax’s day tried some shit so he could give them the beatdown that Cade couldn’t. He’d never say it aloud, but that fuckin’ hippie girl was his cosmic twin and someone was gonna have to shed a little blood for hurting her. He didn’t give a fuck that it was over fifteen years ago. It was still a wrong that needed to right.

Sam shook his head with a wry smile. “You can’t beat the shit out of them all because they were awful to Cade back then.” Sam was still smiling. “Even though I’d love to, too.”

He grinned back. “Guess I might just have to goad someone into it.” The grin faded. “’Cause someone is gonna pay for that shit. Nobody fucks with the people I love…”

“… And gets away with it.” Sam shook his head with his dimples popping. “No starting fights. Finish them, sure. But no starting them.” Sam’s face grew serious again. “We want to have their backs, not make this harder for them.”

As he went to protest, Sam’s cel phone started to ring. Sam looked at it and answered. “Hey Bobby.” 

His ears perked up because Sam had called Bobby earlier in the day and asked the older hunter to put on his Fed voice and to ferret information out of the San Joaquin County District Attorney. 

“Let me put you on speaker Bobby.” Sam punched a button and set the phone on the table.

“Those two are walkin’ into a clusterfuck that’s been five years in the makin’ boys.” Bobby sounded frustrated. “Have you boys talked to them? How are they doin’?”

“They’re holding it together and they’re not goin’ in alone Bobby. Me and Sam are gonna meet them in Grand Island tomorrow afternoon.” He threw his two cents in. 

“Thank fuck for that.” Bobby’s relief was obvious. “That DA is one tough lady who does her homework. She’s already looked into Jax and Cade.”

That wasn’t good. At one point the two of them had been as wanted by the FBI as him and Sam. Granted, they were listed as possible accessories who were wanted for questioning instead of the ‘go directly to jail’ warrants that he and Sam had at the time, but still not good. It meant that she’d have law enforcement keeping an eye on them.

“Fuck.” Leave it to Sam to come up with the right word.

“Got her talked down about the two of them.” Bobby snickered a little. “Good thing Hendrickson wiped the most of the Feds records on you four, otherwise I’m not sure I’da been able to. She’s pretty ambitious.”

“What all did she say Bobby?” Sam was trying to figure out a plan and his boy needed info.

Bobby sighed. “Apparently all of this started when Tom Teller had made arrangements to make a deal for jail time over that school shooting back there. He made it to save the wife from accessory to murder charges.” Bobby sounded like he needed a drink. “Guess Mama Teller didn’t like that, she kills the wife and then lies about who did it and sparked a gang war.” 

“Jesus Christ.” This was even more messed up than Sam had thought.

“You ain’t kiddin’ boy.” It sounded like Bobby had just taken a shot. Not that he would blame the guy. “Tom Teller fucking burns down his world trying to figure out who killed his wife. Eventually found out his mother did it.” Bobby paused for a second. “She told me Tom Teller came to her before he met his end. Confessed to the killing of his mother and the former police chief of Charming and then basically told her he what he was gonna go do.” Bobby paused again. “She’s pretty messed up over this. Apparently she had a bit of a soft spot for Thomas Teller.” He could hear glass on glass in the background. Bobby was settling in for a night with the bottle. He didn’t blame Bobby at all. In fact, it was a plan he was contemplating after this call was done. “She’s still keepin’ an eye on Charming so I’d expect to run across her at some point.”

Fucking awesome. Oh well, it isn’t like they hadn’t faced worse situations. The Apocalypse flashing in front of his eyes. Hellhounds. Motherfucking witches. Sam if he can’t get rabbit food for four days straight.

“Wonderful.” He raised his beer at his brother, who flipped him the bird. Sam got up and started pacing back and forth in front of the table. “Just what they need.”

“Not at all. Which is why you two idjits are goin’ with ‘em.” Bobby’s voice had that after shot roughness. “Next time you boys talk to ‘em, tell them to give me a call. Want to hear how they’re doin’ for myself.” That was not a request. “And keep an old man informed, will ya?”

“Sure Bobby. We can do that.” Sam looked at him like it was gonna be his job to relay that message. 

“Then I guess I’ll talk to you boys soon. G’Night.” Bobby disconnected the call.

Sam looked at him, dread levels back to teenage girl levels. “Shit Dean, usually Bobby considers Jax the least idiotic of all of us, if he’s this worried…” Like it was finally truly hitting Sam that this was so not good on so many levels.

“It’s gonna be fine Sam. We’ll get there, Jax will do his legal shit, have the funerals, and then we all go to Vegas for a vacation.” He had both sets of fingers and toes crossed that he was right.

“We’re not going to Vegas, Dean.” Damn. “Not unless that’s what Jax and Cade want to do after all of this.” Whoo-hoo! He knew he could talk Cade into it, who could talk Jax into it… “And even then I’ll still say no.” Damn.

He tried to give Sam a little pout but Sam just shook his head. “Possible zombie thing down in Mississippi.” His brother’s smile slowly widening. Bastard. Sam had the zombie ace in his pocket this time. Both he and Jax had a thing for zombies. They both blame George Romero for their shared ‘thing’. Cade and Sam contend that the two of them like the easy pickings.

“Guess we’ll be going to Mississippi when we’re done in California.” He smiled at Sam. “Can we get drunk now?” Heading over to the bar to grab a bottle and glasses.

Plopping down in one of the comfy chairs they’d hauled into the library, Sam held out a hand for a glass. “Hell yes. The next week is not gonna be fun.”

For once, he really couldn’t argue with his little brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you're enjoying it! I love feedback, so please feel free to leave any comments, concerns, or constructive criticisms.
> 
> Thanks to all who have clicked that kudo button and that have taken the time to comment!


	7. Chapter Six: Deserted Back Road – Outside of Charming/SAMCRO Clubhouse, Present Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chibs gets the lowdown on Jax and Cade, then makes an admission to Tig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, not beta'd. All mistakes are mine.

Chibs leaned against his bike, looking up at the night sky as he waited for Jarry to show up. Not long after Tig had left to go let Nero and Wendy know about Jax Teller coming home, he’d called Jarry and asked if she could do some digging for him. With Juice as dead as the others, SAMCRO had lost their intel officer.

He needed to know what kind of man was comin’ back. The Jax that had left had been just fine with a fist-fight, but anything more wasn’t really who the lad was. Then again, Tom had been the same way and look how he ended. He shook his head. He knew how hard he was takin’ Tom’s death, and even though he was the one who made the call, the thought of having to possibly deal with an angry Jax was a little too much for his plate right now.

The headlights from Jarry’s car were bouncing down the road towards him. He stifled a smile. The road was crap. The advantage to having a bike was he could get around the potholes that the county was never goin’ to fix.

After Jarry got the car parked, he walked over to the door and opened it for her. She looked up at him. “Jackson and Cadence Teller’s rap sheets are very interesting reading.” He stepped back so she could get out of her cruiser. “And I got to talk to the Feds.”

He frowned. “Feds?” He’d been sure that Jackie would have had some sort of rap sheet. But minor shit like possession. Not a damn thing that would bring the Feds in. “What kind of charges would the Feds hang on them?”

“Let’s start with the state and local charges.” Jarry pulled a file out of her car. “We have the misdemeanors; breaking and entering, evading arrest, property destruction, possession, and assault.” Then flipping a page. “Now let’s move on to the felonies. There’s impersonation of a federal officer.” She looked up at him. “A few times. Grand theft auto, assault with a deadly, illegal firearms possession. Arson.” She flipped another page. “Then we have the weird shit.” She shook her head. “There are also nearly a page of grave desecration charges, along with grave robbery.”

“Other than the weapons charges, don’t see any reason why the Feds would be interested in them.” He was a lot wigged out by the laundry list of charges that Jarry had read off to him. But after all of the trouble SAMCRO had with the Feds, that had to be his priority.

“See here’s the thing. The Feds were looking for them for questioning in regards to the Winchester Brothers.” She looked back to her sheet of paper. “They were wanted for murder, attempted bank robbery. At one point, Dean and Sam Winchester were pretty high up on the FBI’s Most Wanted.” Jarry shook her head. “But the file has been gutted. And the Feds computer records have been wiped.” Sighing. “Someone took very special care in making sure that not only Sam and Dean Winchester were clear, so were Jax and Cadence Teller.” She leaned against her cruiser. “The only way I could get any info from the Feds was to talk to an old friend of mine who’s an agent who’d actually been working with the lead agent on this. Off the record, he told me it was one of the most frustrating cases he’d ever been on. They wanted to find Jax and Cade Teller because they were sure if those two were found and held that Dean and Sam Winchester would come looking for them.” She set the file on the roof of the cruiser. “So my guess is Tom Teller’s brother and sister-in-law won’t be coming here alone.” She looked at him steadily. “They’ll more than likely have the Winchester’s with them. Hell, half of these charges also have Dean’s name in with them. Some have Sam too.”

“What were the other fellas wanted by the Feds for?” Thinkin’ he really didn’t want to know.

“Murder and attempted bank robbery.” She looked back down at her notes. “The attempted bank robbery brought the Feds in initially, and then there was the murder, and then the Winchester’s were fugitives.”

Who in the fuck had Jackie and his lass fallen in with? The lass Jackie had brought back to Charming was sweet and compassionate and for the first ten minutes she’d been in Charming, had seemed excited to be gaining a family. But he had known before Jackie had said a word to Clay and Gem, that the lad wasn’t gonna patch. The lad wanted the lass more than the club. And he knew that what the repercussions would be when Jackie dropped that bomb on Clay, Gem, and Tom. Exiled and disowned.

He still felt awful about what he had tried to do to Jackie’s lass. He’d cornered her, tried to seduce her and when that hadn’t worked, threatened her. To her credit, even though scared out of her wits, she had stood her ground. At the time, had Bobby not come looking for him, he’d have probably done somethin’ he would have really regretted. 

Not that he didn’t pay for the little stunt he’d tried to pull to keep Jackie with the club. Almost three years after Jackie had been run out of Charming, he’d been on a run up north with Tig and as can happen with Tiggy, there was a bar fight. He’d gotten his ass kicked to the point of a real hospital by some big dude who was obviously ex-military. And at the end of the ass-kicking, the man had leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Think of me the next time you threaten a woman the way you did Cadence Teller.” The man had given him a malevolent smile. “And if you ever run across Jax and Cadence Teller again? Turn and walk away. They’re part of my family now and I take care of my own.”

With that in mind, he looked over to Jarry. “Either Winchester have a military background?”

She flipped through her papers. “No, but Papa Winchester was a Marine in Vietnam. And according to my friend the Fed, after his wife was killed in a house fire, he raised his boys off-the-grid.” She looked at him seriously. “Sam and Dean Winchester are lethal.” Yes they were if the beating he had taken at the time was any indicator. He could tell the man had been holding back.

She put the papers back in the file and handed it to him. “It’s all in there.” She paused for a second. “I’m sorry about Tom Teller. I know he meant a lot to you.” Then she got in her car and drove off.

He watched the tail-lights fade. Another thing he felt badly about; how he used Jarry for club purposes when he’d actually liked her. But they were on different sides of the fence so to speak, so it was for the best.

Tucking the file on Jackie and his wife she’d given him into one of his saddlebags, he pointed his bike towards Red Woody. As his bike chewed up the miles, he thought about a young Jax Teller who had looked so happy when he had returned home with a beautiful lass on his arm. He hoped that Jackie wouldn’t be comin’ home just to get payback. 

Parking his bike outside of Red Woody and grabbing the file, he barely noticed the filming until Lyla stopped him. “Hey.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. She frowned a little. “You okay?”

“Not even sure anymore, luv.” He gave her a wry smile. “Been so far from okay for so long I don’t think I’d know what it looks like.”

She returned the wry smile as she gave him a quick hug. “I know how you feel.”

“Tig back?” The file in his hand felt like a fucking ton.

She nodded her head towards the new chapel. “Yeah. He’s in there.” She looked as tired and spun out as the rest of them. “Said Nero and Wendy were hangin’ by a thread.”

Sighing, he kissed her cheek again. “Just like the rest of us, then.” Barely acknowledging the nod from her as he walked off towards the chapel.

Opening the door, Tig was standing off towards the side, staring at the Reaper carved into the Redwood table, cigarette in one hand, beer in the other. Taking a long pull, Tig looked over to him. “Jarry find anything?”

He threw the file on the table. “A whole lot of anything.” He snagged the beer in Tig’s hand and took a drink. “Read for yerself.” Going to grab a beer as Tig sat and started to flip through the file that Jarry had compiled.

After about ten minutes and two-thirds of his beer, Tig looked up. “What the fuck? These two have charges even I don’t.”

Ah, Tiggy had found the grave robbery and desecration charges. 

“Impersonating a federal officer?” Maybe Tiggy hadn’t gotten that far. “Why the hell would anyone want to do that?” Tig took the final drink of the beer that had sat untouched while he was reading the file. “Plus the grave shit? What the hell is that about?” His VP shook his black curls. “This ain’t your normal list of charges. What the fuck have these two been up to?”

He shook his head. He certainly hadn’t been able to think of any fuckin’ scenario that would lead to this list of charges, warrants, and allegations. “No fuckin’ idea Tiggy.” He closed his eyes for a second. “Jarry said we shouldn’t be surprised if they don’t show up alone.”

“Yeah, I noticed the recurring names.” Tig got up grabbing another beer. After Tig got the bottle-cap off and took a drink, Tig looked back to the table, where he’d left the file open. “If we keep our heads, they’ll keep theirs. Not seeing a lot of random violence here.”

He shrugged. “Would be better if they felt like they could come here without back-up.” Then it occurred to him, Jackie could be coming in hot if the lad knew what he had done all those years ago. Maybe back-up was coming with Jackie and his wife not for protection, but to keep Jackie on a leash.

Tig rolled his eyes. Since he’d told Tig that he’d gotten a line on Jackson Teller, the man had reactions that hadn’t lined up with how Tig had acted at the time. But as Tiggy had said, the new VP and former SAA had far different opinions behind closed doors with Clay. Then the man looked at him with narrowed eyes. “So, any reason you’re so worried about if anyone shows up with them?”

Yeah, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell Tiggy. Then realizing how much keeping mouths shut about goings-on had contributed to where they were now, he sighed. “I threatened the lass right before Jackie dropped the not patchin’ bomb.” He looked at the Reaper and felt the shame all over again. “My guess would be Jackie may be holdin’ a grudge.”

Tig rolled his eyes heavenward again. “Great.” Tig leveled his gaze, blue eyes not thrilled. “What I initially thought would be a family drama clusterfuck is in reality going to now be a family drama clusterfuck with the added bonus of the revenge clusterfuck.” Tig shoved back in the chair and stood up. “What the hell, probably still easier than the shit we’ve been dealin’ with lately.” Tig gave him a half-hearted grin and put a hand on his shoulder and gave a squeeze. “That shit was so long ago Chibs, with what it looks like these two have been up to, if Jax had wanted his revenge, he’d have already taken it.” Tig shook his head again. “I’m goin’ home. I need to get some fucking sleep.”

“’Night Tiggy.” He nodded at his VP as the man slipped out the door. Sighing, he got up to do the same. Tiggy was right, they all needed some fuckin’ sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you're enjoying it! I love hearing from you guys so please feel free to leave any comments, concerns, or constructive criticisms!
> 
> Thanks to those who have clicked that kudo button and that have taken the time to comment! They make me smile.


	8. Chapter Seven: Present Day, Tig’s Place/Undisclosed Location in Nor-Cal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tig goes to see a man for some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, not beta'd. All mistakes are mine.
> 
> For those hoping for a lot of Venus in this story; I have to be honest, there may not be as much of her as I would like in this. I find myself really having trouble finding her voice. So if she doesn't ring true, know that I tried and somehow just could not seem to get it to my satisfaction.

Getting to his place, Tig parked his bike and before going in made a quick phone call. After setting up a meet for a couple of hours from now he went inside. As soon as he opened the door he was greeted with a fantastic smell coming from the kitchen.

Following his nose to the kitchen, he was greeted by the sight of his old lady and his dog in the kitchen makin’ dinner. After giving the pup a couple of scritches behind the ear, he got up behind Venus and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Whatcha cookin’ doll?” Kissing her neck.

She turned in his arms, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. “There’s Chicken Fried Steak warming in the oven. With mashed potatoes, and green beans. And if you’ll go clean up, I can finish the gravy and then my hungry man can eat.” Turning back to the stove.

He gave her a quick squeeze and kiss on the neck. “Sounds good.” He knows normally he’d have already said or done something to get them to bed, but not tonight. He still had things to do.

She gave him an odd look as he walked off to go get cleaned up for dinner, but didn’t say anything. 

When they had both sat down and were eating, Venus looked over to him. “Nero said something about another Teller boy?”

“Yeah, Jax. Gemma and JT’s oldest.” He sighed. “It’s a long story doll, but the short of it is Jax was sent on a walkabout and came back with a girl. He wanted the girl more than the club and told Gem and Clay he wasn’t gonna patch. They ran him and his girl off.” Shaking his head. “And I have the feeling if he didn’t need to deal with legal shit, they’d avoid all of this like the plague.”

Venus nodded. “As much as I liked Gemma, I can see her not taking kindly to someone outside of the club.” Venus sighed. “But that’s not all Alexander, I can see it in your face.”

“Chibs looked into what Jax had been up to, figuring he’d have maybe a couple of minor possession charges, petty shit like that. Chibs figured it might give us a clue to where he was livin’.” He had a pretty good idea of what that laundry list of charges meant and it wasn’t good for SAMCRO. “But he found pages of charges ranging from local, state, and federal charges, in multiple states.”

“So they’re criminals anyway? Without club protection?” Venus made it sound like that was the dumbest idea ever.

He shrugged. “I don’t think they’re criminals exactly.” He sucked it up and decided to tell her what he already knew. “Look about twenty years ago, I’d taken off for a few days, ended up in this bar just over the Nevada border.” He grinned at her. “There was a bar fight, me against all the locals. Well, some guy decided he didn’t like those odds so he jumped in to help me out.” He smiled a little at the memory. That was a great night. “Doll, not only did he know how to fight, you could tell he was holding back so he wouldn’t kill anyone.”

Venus smiled. “Kind of like you sometimes, then.”

“Sure.” He rolled his eyes a little and received a smack on his hand. He smiled at her. “After we kicked ass, we hightailed it to another bar. And that’s when he started spewing bullshit at me. Or at least that’s what I thought then.” His brow furrowed. “Now I’m not so sure. It’s the only thing I can think of that makes Jax and his wife’s rap sheets make any goddamned sense.”

“What did the man tell you Alexander? You still look shook by it.” Venus took his hand.

“That ghosts were real. That all of those things we think are scary stories and fairy tales are fucking real and there’s a group of people who hunt and kill them.” He looked at Venus expecting to see a skeptical look, but she just nodded.

Looking at his surprised face Venus gave him a warm smile. “Alexander, you like to treat me like I’m a blushing virgin, but we both know I’ve been around the block a few times, and let’s just say this girl has seen enough freaky things in her life to not discount what that man said immediately.” The smile disappeared. “You think Jax Teller is one of these hunters?”

Shrugging again. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.” He looked at her apologetically. “I’ve stayed in touch with the guy, he’s agreed to meet me…” He looked at the clock on the wall. “In about an hour and a half.” He took a last bite. “This was wonderful darlin’ and I wish I didn’t have to go…”

She leaned over and kissed him. Smiling as she sat back. “You are the new Vice-President of SAMCRO sugar. You need to get all the facts before these two get here.” She shook her head slightly. “I’m a big girl Alexander, I think I can find something to occupy my time until you get back.”

Sliding his chair back, he stood up and leaned over giving her another kiss. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, so don’t wait up.”

She nodded as she patted his cheek. “Go meet your ‘informant’.” Putting air quotes around informant.

He grinned at her as he ducked out of the house. Starting his bike, and getting on the road; he hoped he was wrong about what Jax had been up to all of these years. Dale, the guy he’d met all those years ago, had indicated that the hunting life was lonely and that unless they were born into it, a life that one usually came to after tragedy. But then again, maybe being ostracized by your family can push you into a far more dangerous life.

That made him laugh and not in a good way. Fuck, Jax was alive and Tom was dead, so who was he to say which life was more dangerous?

He rode for nearly an hour before he pulled off into the parking lot of one of the shadiest bars he’d ever been in, and for fuck’s sake, he’d been in some really shady fuckin’ places.

Getting inside, he looked around in the darkened room. First of all, everyone in the fuckin’ place was strapped. Awesome. Secondly, he couldn’t find… there he was, sitting in a back booth, glare of a laptop illuminating a gaunt face. 

He slid into the other side of the booth and waited for Dale to finish whatever he was doing on his computer. The man hit a few more keys and then gently pushed the laptop aside, not closing it.

Dale reached a hand across the table. “Tig.” Shaking his hand. “Sorry to hear about all the trouble down your way.” 

“Yeah. Thanks.” He looked around, trying to find a waitress, when he saw a girl bringing two beers and a bottle with two glasses their way. 

Dale looked at the girl with a small smile. “Thanks Katie. If you could bring a couple more beers, I think we’ll be fine for a while.” Letting the girl know by his tone that Dale wanted privacy.

“Sure thing Dale.” The girl smiled at the man sitting across from him, then ran off to grab more beers.

Dale looked at him. “You called me and asked about Sam and Dean Winchester. Why?” The man spoke like he knew them.

“You know them?” He took a drink of his beer as the girl brought the second round and set them on the table. 

Dale watched the girl walk away and then turned back to him. “Not personally, I know of them.” Dale tilted his head and looked at him with an odd look in his eyes. “When I saw the paper, I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you.” The man smiled the odd smile that over the years always sent a slight shiver down his spine. “You don’t really want to know about Sam and Dean, you want to know about Jackson and Cadence Teller.”

He narrowed his eyes at the other man, who looked back at him with not a shred of worry in his eyes. “You know about them too?”

Dale smiled again. “All hunters know about Sam and Dean Winchester and Jackson and Cadence Teller.” The smiling stopped and the man looked serious as a motherfucking heart attack. “You stop the Apocalypse, you get known.” Then shrugged. “But the Winchester name has been around for a while.” The man looked like an animated cadaver. “John Winchester was one of the finest hunters to ever live.” The man paused. “And his sons are even better.”

“Yeah, Sam and Dean are badass. That doesn’t…” He was interrupted by a hard look.

“John Winchester considered Jax Teller his son also.” The man grinned for a moment. “Maybe son-in-law is the better way to put that.” The serious look was back. “I was including Jax in my previous statement.”

“So if Jax comes in hot, you’re saying we’ve got a fight on our hands.” Great. Just what he fucking needed.

Dale shook his head, the white that was overtaking auburn glinting in the shoddy lighting of the bar. “No, if Jax Teller comes in hot, and has the Winchester boys with him?” There was that creepy smile again. “There won’t be a fight. There will be a slaughter. Lucky for you, they have rules. No killing humans.” The creepy smile remained. “Well, normal humans at least.”

He frowned. “Normal humans? What the fuck Dale?”

The other man shrugged. “They kill vamps, weres, and exorcise demons from people. The ones that have been turned into vamps or weres, they’re just killed. And not everyone survives having a demon exorcised from them. Sometimes they don’t have time to bother with an exorcism, they just shoot and the demon leaves. They try not to shoot to kill, but demons don’t usually let them get away with that. If they’re going to be ejected violently then they’re takin’ the host with them.” Dale took a drink of his beer. “If you think of it that way; the Winchesters and the Tellers have a higher body count than any ten serial killers combined.”

He sat the beer he’d been getting ready to take a drink from and poured a shot of whiskey. Throwing that back, he stared at the man, a little dumbfounded. “You’re shitting me.”

Dale shook his head slightly. “Actually I’m underestimating their body count.” The man gave him what he was sure Dale thought was a reassuring smile, but really it was just a less creepy version of his other one. “But like I said, they don’t go after regular old humans.”

He lit a cigarette. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? “Are you fucking serious?” Seemed like a good place to start. “That’s supposed to make me feel better? They don’t go after regular humans.” He took a drag and exhaled. “Because I gotta say, not really feeling any of this shit at all.”

Dale took a sip of whiskey and shrugged. “You came to me for information, not reassurance, Tig.” A bony finger tapping the edge of the glass. “Because quite frankly my friend, information is all I have.” Dark eyes with golden flecks bored into his. “And hard information is scant, but rumors are rife around the four of them. So I find it impossible to offer reassurance.”

“Rumors?” He raised a sarcastic eyebrow. “You mean gossip?” 

Surprisingly white teeth flashed in a wolfish smile. “Hunters are like fishermen. We like our tales and they tend to change over time.” Dale took another sip of whiskey. “And with the hunters in question, there are a number of tales.” The man raised a finger. “I know, you’re not interested in tales, you want facts.”

Dale sat back and studied him for a moment, then sighed. “The facts are that SAMCRO cast Jax and Cadence Teller out and the Winchester’s took them in.” The man’s tone was like a blade. “They have spent that time fighting the things in the dark, and they are hunters through and through.” The man scanned the room and looked back to him. “Wild and dangerous and if they come to your town, nothing good is happening and people usually die.”

He closed his eyes. This so wasn’t what he wanted to hear. But he still had questions. “Yeah, okay. We should all be on our best behavior.” He took a drink of his beer and hoped the other man didn’t notice the slight shake. “But I gotta know, what’s up with all the grave desecration and robbery charges? Those are just fucking weird.”

Dale shook his head. “Ghosts.”

“What the fuck?” He shoulda brought some aspirin. This was givin’ him a fuckin’ headache.

“Sometimes when someone dies; either violently, or unexpectedly, or sometimes because they just are unable to move on; their spirit lingers.” Dale shrugged. “Even what starts out as the most benign ghost will eventually turn violent.” Dale looked at him, an almost sad glint in his eyes. “The human soul is meant to move on after death. Even ghosts can go mad.” The man shook his head and cleared his throat. “To get rid of a ghost, you salt and burn the remains. If there are no remains, it’s an item that the deceased had an intense connection to.”

Dale’s tone was droll as he went on. “Salt and burns are the majority of what most hunters deal with.” The creepy smile was back. “Therefore a lot of us have pages of those particular charges.”

“Most hunters?” He had a feeling he wasn’t gonna like this.

Dale sat back again. “Most hunters don’t deal with apocalypses.” There was a dry humor in the man’s voice. “The Winchester’s and the Teller’s deal with those.”

He wasn’t going to ask; he really did not want to know. No fucking way, not him. “Apocalypse?! As in the fucking biblical Apocalypse?! The armies of heaven and hell battling it out here on Earth?! That Apocalypse?!” Fuck. Well, at least he managed to keep his voice low so he didn’t sound like he’d completely lost his mind.

But the other man wasn’t looking at him as if he’d lost his mind. Dale was looking at him like he was a moron who was finally getting it. “Yes.” The man leaned forward. “The biblical Apocalypse.” Then he sat back and gave a wan smile. “But to be fair; Sam and Dean started it, breaking the first seals.”

He looked at the other man and saw the weight in his eyes. As much as he wanted to discount all of this as crazy talk; he couldn’t. The man was obviously telling the truth. About all of it. Looking around the bar, he noticed the same world weary looks on the others faces, the same slightly paranoid posture. He looked back to his ‘friend’. “This is a hunter’s bar, isn’t it?”

Dale nodded, slight smirk on his face. “Why? Feel like testing your mettle tonight?”

He grinned back at the man. “Nah, gettin’ too old for that shit.” Taking a drink of his beer. “Plus, I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends by kicking their asses.”

The other man chuckled lightly. “Probably for the best.” Dale tilted his beer towards him. “We certainly aren’t as young as we used to be.” The other man closed his eyes for a moment, like he was trying to gather his thoughts.

He didn’t try to rush the man; in the years he had known Dale, the man had never bullshitted him, so if he needed a little time to get what he needed to say together, then he didn’t mind waiting. He could be patient when he had to be; he just didn’t like it so he didn’t exercise it much.

When Dale opened his eyes, they were hard and serious. “Ugly shit went down with your club Tig.” Dale shook his head sadly. “Tom Teller set things in motion that he could never have dreamed of.” The man gave a sad laugh as he looked him dead in the eyes. “Jackson Teller is coming home and your club isn’t the only entity interested in his homecoming.” The laugh disappeared. “Be careful Tig. That’s all I can tell you without delving into rumors and whispers. And remember; Jackson Teller is no longer the boy who was cast out. He is a hunter, and more lethal than you or your brothers.” He knew a dismissal when he heard one.

“Yeah. I hear you.” He stood up and Dale gave him a sad smile again.

“If it makes you feel any better Tig, they are the good guys.” The man looked almost nostalgic. “As John Winchester once told me; ‘It’s the family business; saving people, hunting things.” 

He thought about it. “Doesn’t make me feel better about it at fucking all.” He shook Dale’s hand. “Not sure how much of this I actually fucking believe, but thanks for the drinks.” 

“You’re welcome.” Dale shrugged. “Believe it or not; just keep your eyes and ears open.”

“Always do.” With a last nod of the head, he turned and left the bar.

Getting to his bike, he sat out there smoking a cigarette before taking off. He wasn’t sure what the fuck he should think. Even though it sounded like the ramblings of a crazy man, they made sense, and it explained the rap sheets. He pulled the micro-recorder out from his cut and looked at it for a moment before shoving it back in.

He wasn’t gonna enjoy this but it was gonna have to happen. Pulling out his cel, he punched a number in. After a couple of rings a rough voice answered. “What the hell Tiggy? Thought ye was goin’ home to get some sleep?” He felt a little bad he’d woken Chibs up, but it had to be done.

“Yeah, getting there soon.” He sighed. “Look; I need you and Hap to meet me at my place in the morning. Went and saw a guy I know who had some info on what Jax and his wife might be into. I’d rather talk to you and Hap before bringing it to the table.” Letting Chibs know this wasn’t the same cryptic bullshit that Tom and Clay pulled over the last few years.

Chibs sighed. “Aye. I’ll call Hap and let him know. Be there around eight.” Chibs hung up.

With that settled, he felt a little better. He’d let his brothers listen to the recording and let them decide if it was bullshit or not.

Starting his bike, he pulled out of the lot and onto the highway. Every mile he rode away from the place he felt lighter. Gunning his bike, he enjoyed the thrum throughout his body as he made plans for the rest of the night with his old lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you're enjoying it! Please feel free to leave any comments, concerns, or constructive criticisms, I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> Thanks to all who have clicked that kudo button and that have taken the time to comment!


	9. Chapter Eight: Present Day, Lincoln, Nebraska/ Charming, Tig’s House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter in two parts. First Cade and Jax have a heart to heart. Then Chibs, Tig and Hap meet a Tig's. And have a very special visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, not beta'd. All mistakes are mine!

It was almost eight in the morning when Cade hit the outskirts of Lincoln, coming in from the southeast along Hwy 2. She looked over to her husband, who even while sleeping looked profoundly unhappy about what was going on. As much as she did not want to go back to her husband’s hometown, she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him go without her. 

Even though her husband was shocked at what his mother had done, she wasn’t. This was Gemma Teller-Morrow’s way of having the last word. Granted, she hadn’t really spent any real time with the woman, but she had cottoned that much about her.

Stopping at a red light, she lit a cigarette as her husband woke up. “We’re in Lincoln?” He grabbed his shades from the dash. “You were supposed to wake me up a couple of hours ago.” He didn’t sound all that put out that she hadn’t. He hadn’t handed over driving duties until nearly five this morning.

“You were actually sleeping in Betty while she was moving for once.” Cracking a window to let the smoke out, it was a fairly chilly late fall morning. “And if it will make you feel better, I’ll let you drive most of the day.”

Jax gave her a wry smile. “That’s just so you can stuff your face with stuff from Stella’s.” She shrugged because well, he was right. He chuckled for a second. “You call Scott and Leah?” 

When she shook her head, he pulled his phone out and made the call. “Hey man.”

She couldn’t hear Scott on the other end, but her husband smiled. “Yeah, we’re at…” He looked around. “Roughly Seventieth and Hwy Two.” Then laughed a moment later. “Yeah man, we can stop and get coffee. Text Cade what you want. We’ll be there in about half an hour.” Disconnecting the call.

A moment later, her phone pinged with a text message. Knowing it was Scotty’s coffee order, she didn’t bother with it.

Jax reached over and squeezed her thigh. “You okay babe?” His tone too serious to be just asking about how tired she was.

Except, she wasn’t sure if she was okay or not. She wanted to say yes, but her husband would see it for the lie it was. “I really don’t know.” She reached down and patted his hand. “I guess I’m not really sure how I feel about any of this.” 

“Me either.” The tone of her husband’s voice was a knife in her heart. Part of her wished that they had never had gotten that damned phone call. But she knows that if he’d have found out any other way it would probably be worse. He sighed. “I just don’t want to get dragged into whatever shit is goin’ on out there.”

“That’s why Sam and Dean are coming with us, sugar.” At least one of them. She could think of a couple of others. As she was opening her mouth to go on, her husband’s cel phone rang. 

He grimaced a little as he answered it, putting it on speaker. “Bobby.”

“Oh, so your cel isn’t broken? You forget my number boy?” Bobby sounded hung-over as fuck. And like a Jewish mother all at the same time. She was impressed.

She could also tell by the look on Jax’s face that the phone call to Bobby had been something he was waiting to do when they got to Scott and Leah’s and she was busy doin’ something else. She wasn’t upset, she understood that Bobby was the person her husband went to when he needed to sort things out in his head. She knew what Sam had told them last night was messing with her husband something fierce.  
“Thought I’d wait ‘til we got to Lincoln and I could get someplace where I could actually talk to you for more than three minutes without an interruption.” Her husband gave her a sideways smirk. She flipped him off as she made a right turn onto 27th street. “I’ll call you back in about half an hour or so.”

“Hi Bobby! Bye Bobby!” In a sing-song voice from the driver’s seat. 

“Don’t think I don’t want to talk to you too, Missy.” Bobby’s Jewish mother mode still active. The man let out a huff. “I’ll talk to you both in a little bit.” Then hung up.

Grinning, she glanced over to her husband. “So, I’m an interruption, hmm?” Not being able to resist giving him shit.

“My favorite kind.” Her husband grinned back at her, briefly. Then his expression went back to the mess of emotions it’d been since his damn cel phone rang the day before. Anger, grief, dread. “I really just didn’t want to be stuck in the car and have to talk to Bobby.”

She nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. Conversations with Bobby about serious things usually required pacing. Bobby wasn’t one to sugar-coat, well, anything; and he made you think about shit you really didn’t want to. “Yeah.” She turned into the parking lot of the coffee shop. She was going to be doing her own pacing when she talked to Bobby.

She knew he was gonna harp on her once again about telling her husband what Chibs had done to her when Jax had taken her home back when they were both young enough to believe you could have it all.

At first, when she had told John and Dean, about six weeks after she and her husband had decided to throw their lot in with the hunters; while Jax was unconscious after a run in with a Wendigo; which was also her first experience with field surgery (she was a pro now, couldn’t tell the difference between her stitches and a doctor’s), her reasoning for not telling Jax had been she hadn’t wanted her husband to go back and kill the man. And then be killed by the club. Now as the years had passed, it was less about her husband wanting to kill Chibs than it was her just really wanted to forget that Charming and its citizens even existed.

But now that they had to go back, she was going to have to tell him. She had wanted to wait until they met up with Sam and Dean, but she wasn’t going to wait another minute. While Bobby wouldn’t rat her out to Jax, she just wasn’t up for arguing with him about it any longer.

Shutting the engine off, she turned to her husband. She wasn’t worried that this would break them or anything like that, she just hated adding to his load. “Sugar, before we go in and get coffee, I have to tell you something.” 

“Okay.” Her husband raising an eyebrow in question as he studied her face. “I’m not gonna like this am I?”

“Probably not.” She looked out into the parking lot. “But you’ve got to know before we get to Charming.” She swallowed and licked her lips trying to figure out how to start. She looked back to Jax, who had relaxed back into the seat. He had a look on his face that told her she wasn’t going to be telling him something he didn’t already know. She was so punching Dean if he’d opened his big fat lips…

“Dean didn’t tell me.” Jax, reading her mind, reached over and grasped her hand, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles. “Remember right before Sammy graduated from high school and John had broken two knuckles on his right hand?” Weird question, but yeah, she remembered.

“He’d hit them on a gravestone when he got thrown by a ghost somewhere in Oregon, if I remember right.” She squeezed his hand. “Why?”

“There wasn’t a gravestone. He broke them on Chibs.” Her husband had a fierce smile on his face. 

Her jaw dropped without her permission. “What?!” 

With a slightly sad smile on his face, her husband reached over and closed her mouth. Then he covered it with his own, as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. She was once again, grateful for the bench seats in Betty. It made making out like teenagers so much easier.

When he had kissed the trepidation and her oxygen away, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. When they were both breathing normally, she looked into bright blue eyes looking back at her with such love, her throat went tight. “Tell me.”

So she did. She told him how Chibs had caught her alone. How the paneling of the hallway had been rough on her back. How at first Chibs had tried to sweet talk her, then how he had groped her when that hadn’t worked; telling her she was a sweetbutt that just didn’t know her place yet. That when she shoved the man away, he came back at her with a blade to face; asking her how she thought Jax would feel about her after she had a nice smile like his. That she had looked the bastard in the face while shaking like a leaf and told him that it wouldn’t change one iota about how Jax felt about her because Jax loved all of her, not just what she had on the outside. She told him how SAMCRO’s Bobby had unknowingly saved her by coming to look for Chibs for some reason.

Her husband held her through it; his grip tightening as she revealed each level of what had happened all those years ago, only relaxing when she had told him about standing her ground and her faith in him. When she finished, he kissed her breathless again. Breaking apart, her husband refused to let her go. “You should have told me.” There was no anger; just hurt and a slight tinge of disappointment. “But John told me why you didn’t…” A small, sad smile raced across his face before it disappeared. “So, I understand.”

She blinked at him. “If you knew, why did you make me tell you?” She knew she sounded a little aggravated, but she really hadn’t wanted to take that stroll down memory lane. She tried to pull away from him.

“All I knew is that Chibs had put hands on you in an inappropriate manner, to quote John.” His grip tighter and his voice soft and serious in his ear. “Enough so that when by coincidence John and Bobby happened to run across Chibs and another SAMCRO member, that John felt the need to beat Chibs into the ER.” He finally let go, and shrugged a little. “I needed the story from you, not some vague story from John. Or Bobby.”

Again, with the jaw-dropping confessions. “What?!” 

He held up his hands with a slight smirk on his face. “When we were at Bobby’s and John told us how he had broken his knuckles, I noticed Bobby roll his eyes just a little, so I confronted Bobby. Bobby told me they beat down Chibs and my guess would be Tig from the description Bobby gave me, for the running me out a rail shit…” Jax shook his head with a wry smile. “And even though it sounded plausible, I didn’t believe him, so I asked John.” The smile turned sad again. “I waited until John was pretty well in the bag before I asked. So he rambled on for a while about the first time I was hurt bad on a hunt and that you were afraid I would do something stupid if I knew, so he did it for me, and how no one touches his daughter like that and gets away with it…” The sad smile widened just a fraction, “I think he realized what he said, because I was told not to tell you he’d done it so that you wouldn’t get mad at him and Bobby.” Her husband chuckled just a little. “Only person on the planet John ever worried about pissing off.”

“Yeah, I seem to remember he had no problem with me being pissed at him when he told Sam not to come back when Sam went to Stanford.” Watching Jax tense a little. None of them had good memories from that time. Her and John were pissed. John at Sam. She at John. Dean was devastated and drunk, and her poor husband getting it from every side.

Jax shrugged. “Yeah, but just a few months after you had your epic blow-up at him about it, he did start doing the same thing Dean was; sneaking out there and making sure Sam was okay and doing a little B & E to leave him some money. Plus, we’re talking about John, the man makes Sam look not stubborn.”

“True that.” She leaned into her husband. “Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. At first it was just because I was so afraid that you’d go back and try to get some payback in my name and the club would kill you.” She swallowed hard. For years that had been her worst nightmare. Not the monsters or demons or witches; but her husband dying at the hands of his family for her. “After a while, I just wanted to forget all about Charming and the people there.”

She could feel her husband’s arms tighten around her, his breath was warm on her neck. “I know, babe.” There was the lightest brush of his lips on her neck. “Like I said before; I understand.” He gave her another kiss, then let her go. “We should go get our coffee.” He shot her a grin as the text notification on his phone went off. “Before Scotty goes into full-blown no coffee meltdown.” 

“Yeah.” She grinned back as she grabbed her purse before getting out of Betty. Grabbing Jax’s hand as the two of them started to cross the parking lot, she stopped him. “You know I’m not afraid of them anymore, right?” She needed him to know that; she didn’t want him rolling into Charming with payback on his mind. He needed to focus on the present, not the past.

Turning to her, her husband wrapped her in another hug. “I know babe.” He pulled away and studied her for a minute, then sighed. “John got our pound of flesh.” She held his eyes, relaxing when she finally received a minute eye-roll. “I won’t pound him into the dirt unless I’m provoked.” 

Chuckling, she leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. “Thank you.” Then started to walk towards the ‘Lark. “Plus, I think if anyone should get to kick his ass, it’s me.” Laughing as she could feel Jax press up against her as they reached the coffee shop door.

“You know how much I love it when you go all badass bitch on someone.” Lust coloring his laughter. The two of them had spent nearly every day of the last sixteen years together and that laugh could still make her want to drag her man to the nearest room with no one else in it and have her wicked way with him.

With a hand on the door handle, she turned and kissed him again. “Let’s get the damn coffee so we can get to Scott and Leah’s. I want to blow you boneless in the shower.”

With an arched eyebrow and a twinkle in his eye, her husband opened the door to the coffee shop. “After you, babe.” Another throaty laugh. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

As he was parking his bike along the curb in front of Tiggy’s house, Chibs heard Hap’s bike come around the corner. Stowing his helmet, he watched his SAA park. 

Hap stepped over to him. “You know what this is about?” He liked that about Hap, the man cut through the shite to get right to the heart of things.

“Not really. Tiggy just said he got some intel on Jax Teller and wanted to tell us before we took it to the table.” He shrugged. 

Hap just nodded as the two of them walked to the house. By the time they reached the front step, Tig had the door open. “I got coffee.” Then nodded back towards the kitchen. “Venus made some breakfast.”

“Where is the lady of the house?” He heard Hap bite back a snicker. He really could care less about where Tiggy stuck his dick. He liked Venus, and she made Tig happy, so who was he to argue?

The solemnity of Tig’s voice caught his ear. “She went to go get a key to Gem’s so her and Lyla could go…” He closed his eyes to the look on Tig’s face. The man had been close to Gem, and her betrayal of Tom and the club that had led to Tom putting a bullet in her, had rattled Tiggy. “She said Nero and Wendy were in no shape to do it.”

“Aye.” He and Hap followed Tig to the kitchen. Once the three of them were settled in with food and coffee, he looked to his VP. “What did ye find out?”

Tig sighed and pulled a micro-recorder out of his kutte. “I knew goin’ in last night that I’d need to record this.” Tiggy shook his head. “I still haven’t decided if I believe Dale completely.” Taking a drink of his coffee. “You guys listen, tell me what you think.” Hitting play on the device.

As he listened to the tinny voices through the recorder, he stopped eating. He looked over the table to Tig, who was looking back at him, blue eyes full of a gravitas that Tig’s eyes rarely held. Next to him, Hap continued to eat his breakfast, his facial expression only changing when Tiggy’s friend mentioned that SAMCRO wasn’t the only group paying attention to Jax Teller’s return.

When the recording finished and Tig shut the thing off, his VP looked back to him. He wanted to laugh and tell Tiggy that the man had pulled a great fast one, but the look on Tig’s face was as grim as the tone of his voice. “I hate to say it, but with the file of charges you got from Jarry; this makes sense.” Then looked over to Hap. “And why the fuck don’t you look as shocked about all of this as you fucking should be?”

“You see a lotta weird shit as a NOMAD brotha.” Hap shrugged. “We don’t talk about it.”

“Yer both fuckin’ cracked.” He scooted his chair back and lit a cigarette. “Yer pal’s havin’ ye on Tiggy.” He scoffed. “Ghosts?! Vampires?! People who hunt them?! Sounds like a TV show to me, Tigger.”

“No TV show, although Dad did do the whole ‘Supernatural’ book series.” There was a whole lot of snark in the voice behind him. “Never did understand that.” He turned to see a short blonde man, who if he’d passed the bloke on the street wouldn’t have thought twice of.

“Where did you come from? There’s a reason I haven’t fixed that screen door, so I can hear if someone comes in.” Tig had a gun pointed at the intruder, as did Hap.

“Where did I come from?” The blonde grinned as he came into the kitchen, acting as if Tig had invited him in and was serving him tea. “Now there’s a question for the ages.” Waving a hand. “But I suppose you’re being more literal rather than philosophical, so to answer your question; Nebraska.”

“How did you get in my house?” Tiggy’s voice was dangerous, but again, the blonde looked like he wasn’t fussed about it in the least.

“I was in Nebraska, and then I was here.” The blonde smiled. “I’m special that way.”

Taking a drag of his smoke, he exhaled it towards the blonde. Even though he could feel tension creeping up his spine, he tried to look as relaxed as the blonde. “What are ye?”

Delight lit the blonde’s eyes. “Oh, you are smarter than the average meatsack aren’t you?” The short man took a step back from the table and lifted his hands as if to say ‘ta-da’, as a set of wings; honest to fucking God, wings, appeared. “I’m Gabriel.” 

“Gabriel…What?!” It couldn’t be. This was all a bad dream and he was gonna wake up in his bed. Simple as that. There was no way his lapsed Catholic arse was sitting in a kitchen with an Archangel of the Father himself.

“Oh, but you are Filip.” He jumped as the blonde’s voice was in his ear.

“Don’t do that!!” He stood up and walked over to stand by Tig and Hap. Even though he was at a level of freaked out he hadn’t even believed existed, he forced himself to stay calm. “Ye just stay over there and we’ll just have a little chat.” He gestured towards the wings. “And those go away.”

Gabriel barely twitched and the things disappeared. Tig leaned over. “Cracked, you say?”

“Not the time, Tiggy.” He looked back over to the angel. “What do ye want? I’m assumin’ this isn’t a social call.”

“No, you’re quite right.” Gabriel took a seat, gesturing at the recorder in the middle of the table. “Mostly I came just to quell any doubts you may have had about the information your friend here received.” Gesturing at Tig. “I figured the wings would do the trick.”

“And?” He was sure he wasn’t gonna like what the angel had to say.

“And…nothing.” Gabriel shrugged with a smart-arsed grin on his face. “I’m sure you’d like me to answer all sorts of questions for you.” The angel shook his head with a chuckle. “But that would be too easy. It’s going to be far more fun to watch your little band of bikers navigate this.” Then the angel just... disappeared.

“We don’t tell the others about this.” Hap looked at him and Tig. “They won’t fuckin’ believe us.”

“Can’t say I’d blame ‘em.” Tig sat back down at the table and lit a smoke. “Fuck, I was here and I barely believe it.” 

The three of them sat drinking their coffee in silence. What in the hell did Jackie and his lass get pulled into? An archangel was just in Tig’s kitchen. As much as he’d love to deny what he had just seen, he couldn’t. He also was thinking about what Tig’s friend had said, SAMCRO wasn’t the only group interested in Jackie’s return. Apparently at least one archangel was taking an interest. He looked over to Tig.

“Do ye think yer friend would know who else is interested in Jackie coming back?” He lit another smoke with an almost steady hand. “Other than us and at least one angel. Wonder why he’s interested.”

“Dale did say that Jax and the others had stopped the Apocalypse.” Tig stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette. “And I’m pretty sure Dale told me everything he was going to.” Tig shrugged. “But I’ll try him again later today.” Tig’s tone suggesting it was already a lost cause.

He looked over to Hap. “I don’t suppose there’s anything you’d care to share about this whole clusterfuck, is there?”

“I’ve met some dudes like Tig’s friend.” Hap actually sounded respectful. “Wild and dangerous is a good description.” Hap looked hard at both he and Tiggy. “We don’t phase them at all. Far as they’re concerned, we’re a fucking sewing circle.”

This just kept getting better and better. He was really starting to regret tracking Jackie down. He sighed. “Well, we’ve got about thirty-six hours before they’re here.” He stood up and made his way to the coffee maker. “And we have other shite to deal with in the meantime. We’ll be on our best behavior and hopefully they will be too.” Both Hap and Tiggy nodded their agreement. He smiled. “Good.” Sitting back down, he took a drink of his coffee. “So, what all do we need to do today?”

The three of them spent the next hour figuring out the plan for the next few days. Making funeral arrangements and arrangements for the wake for Tom. Even though Tom had been stripped of his rank and patch before he’d taken off; SAMCRO would still honor him. The lad had been dealt a shite hand from a rigged deck as far as he was concerned, so fuck the other charters; Thomas Teller Sr. would be buried a Son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you're enjoying it! I love hearing from you, so please feel free to leave any comments, concerns, or constructive criticisms; I will respond!
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you that have clicked that kudo button and that have taken the time to comment!
> 
> And the coffee shop in the Cade/Jax portion of this chapter does really exist in Lincoln. It's called Meadowlark Coffee and is at 17th and South St. It has awesome coffee and a cool vibe. And I'm totally biased because I work at it's sister shop The Cottonwood Café in downtown Lincoln.


	10. Chapter Nine: Present Day; Grand Island, Nebraska/Chibs’s Apartment, Charming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jax and Cade meet up with Sam and Dean, and Chibs has some visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, no beta's here, so all mistakes are mine alone.
> 
> I know it's been forever since this has been updated, my sincerest apologies! Between writer's block and real life, time slipped away.

Sam leaned back onto the Impala with his eyes closed, hoping his hangover would let up soon. His head was killing him. At least Dean had taken pity on him and kept the radio low during the trip from the Bunker.

“Where the hell are they?” Dean’s voice too loud in his ear. “It’s twenty after.”

He cracked an eye and looked at his watch. Dean wasn’t wrong. “You know that the only time Cade is on time is during a hunt.” He felt his lips turn up at the corners. “Other than that, she runs on Cade Standard Time.” He smiled for real as he felt Dean chuckle next to him. “And you’re just jonesing for pie.”

“It’s damn fine pie, Sam.” Dean gave him a small shove. He could hear the undercurrent of worry in his brother’s voice. They’d talked to Cade briefly before leaving the bunker and Dean had been a little off since. She’d sounded tired, but to his ears, other than that, she sounded pretty much like herself. 

But Dean must have heard something that he hadn’t; because since they’d hung up with her, his brother had been just a little… muted was the only word that came to mind. It wouldn’t shock him if that were the case; sometimes Dean and Cade did the freaky twin bond thing even though they weren’t actually twins. Hell, Dean and Cade look more like siblings than he and Dean do, which in the end, works out considering the relationship he and Dean now share.

“Heads up, Sammy. They just pulled in.” He sat up and saw Betty pulling into the truck stop. He would never, never, admit it to Dean, but he thought Betty was a cooler car than Baby was. C’mon, a ’57 Chevy in pristine condition? Plus, the fact that he’s allowed to drive Betty more than he is Baby? Not much of a decision on his part. 

When the car came to a stop, he could see that just by their posture that both Jax and Cade were exhausted. “Better be ready to drive Sammy.” Dean spoke low in his ear. Good, Dean had noticed it too. He just nodded.

As Jax killed the ignition, Cade hopped out of the car and headed towards them, Jax sliding out of the car after her.

After greetings were exchanged, Dean smiled at Cade. “So, where’s my pie?”

He knew Cade was rolling her eyes behind the dark sunglasses on her face. He hit Dean with a light shot to the shoulder. “Is that all you can think about?” Trying to hide the smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew Dean was just trying to distract Jax and Cade for a minute, so he was willing to play along. 

Jax gave Dean a wry smile. “Yeah, we got your pie. Figured we’d bring lunch too.” Cade was already back at Betty, digging in the back seat. She emerged with a couple of bags; one was a large silver insulated bag that was zipped closed along the top, and then a smaller plastic bag that seemed to hold one to-go box.

Cade handed him the small plastic bag. “A salad for our Sammich.” She grinned at him, daring him to call her out on the nickname. Instead, he just flipped her off as he opened the box. 

“What about the rest of us, you fuckin’ hippie?” Dean’s voice held a fake pout.

Cade just shook the silver bag at his brother with a smile. “Burgers, jackass.” Opening the bag and handing Dean his own to-go box.

He called Dean jerk. Cade, jackass. It always made him smile. 

Dean grinned when he opened the box. “I love you.” His brother was looking at the burger. He looked down to see a burger covered in cheese, bacon, jalapenos and onion strings. 

“It’s also got a Cajun cream sauce on it.” Jax informed Dean as Jax was digging into his own burger. 

He looked over to Cade, who sat down by him at the picnic table they had parked by. She had a wrap of some sort, it looked good.

She smiled at him. “Chicken Feta wrap.” Then nudged his arm with her elbow. “I figured we could share.” Eyeing his salad.   
He chuckled as he scooped some of his salad into her to-go box and she put the other half of her wrap in his. 

While the four of them ate their lunches, they sketched out a rough plan for the day. They wanted to make it at least to Salt Lake City tonight, if not actually into Nevada. Jax had told the MC they would arrive sometime Friday evening, so they had about thirty hours to get to Charming.

As they’re making plans, he notices the tension that starts to creep into Jax’s voice and Cade’s posture. Neither one of them want to go do this, go back to a place that treated them so badly.

When lunch is finished and Dean has gotten his apple pie, and Cade has wandered off towards the truck stop, he pulls Jax aside for a second. “Hey, you want me to drive for the first stretch so you can get some rest? Cade can ride with Dean.”

Jax nodded. “Yeah.” Jax ran a hand through his blonde hair, smoothing it back, the way he normally wears it. “Although I doubt I get any sleep after talking to Bobby.”

“He told you everything?” Hoping maybe Bobby had spared Jax the fact that his brother basically announced his intentions to the district attorney.

“Yeah.” Jax sounded numb as the man watched Dean amble off to the truck stop behind them. Once he was sure Dean was out of ear-shot, Jax turned to him. “At some point, we’re going to have to figure out how to salt and burn them.” Jax’s voice lost its numb tone and began to shake just a little. “I don’t want them coming back.” Jax’s voice lost its shake, but none of the emotion. “And how to keep my wife from shooting Chibs. Hell, to keep me from shooting Chibs.”

He clenched his jaw to wrangle his own emotions in check; whatever this Chibs person had done to Cade, it had been bad. He can tell just by the set of Jax’s jaw. But, he just nodded. “Might as well add Dean to that list.”

Jax snorted. “Not you though?”

He shrugged again. “I don’t know what happened, so it’s a little hard to work up to anything other than a beatdown on general purpose.” Trying for a laugh to lighten the moment.

It hadn’t worked. Jax’s jaw just got tighter. “Figured Dean would have told you last night.”

“All Dean would say is that she was treated like shit by everyone there.” He left out the part where a year later she would still get the shakes remembering her time in Charming.

Jax turned to him, shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head. He nearly took a step back. Jax’s eyes held a look that the man reserved for demons and monsters. “He groped my wife, telling her she was just a pass-around, and when she shoved him away, came back at her with a knife to the face, threatening to give her a ‘Glasgow smile’ of her own.” Jax took a deep breath. “Only Bobby Elvis coming to look for Chibs stopped him.”

He felt sick. He really wished someone would have told him this before he ate. Taking his own deep breaths, he felt his stomach settle. “Yeah, add me to that list.” He looked up to see an understanding look on Jax’s face. “Fuck, do we all need a chaperone?”

Jax’s mouth twitched with the approximation of a smile. “Probably, but who’d do it? Everyone we know would want to shoot him too.”  
“Good point.” Feeling his own lips twitch into a half-smile.

“We’re just gonna have to keep each other in check.” Jax put a hand on his shoulder. “Like we always do.” Jax pulled a pack of smokes from his flannel pocket, tapped one out and lit it. Seeing the look on his face, Jax grinned a little. “I’m getting a last cigarette in.” Nodding towards Dean and Cade who were coming out of the truck stop. “Even though it’s my car, I’ll be nice and only smoke when we stop.” Then as he nodded, Jax grinned again. “Cigarettes, at least.”

“At least roll down the window enough so I don’t get a contact high.” Rolling his eyes. Not that he blamed Jax, after the revelation he just got.

“So, we going to get this show on the road? Daylight’s burning.” Dean walked past them towards Baby, Cade strolling behind his brother, smoking her own cigarette.

“Yeah.” Jax looked towards the west. “Might as well.” Jax gave Cade a kiss, as he nodded to Dean.

His brother crooked a finger and as always, he went right to him. “What?” Looking down into Dean’s eyes. 

“Want my own kiss, bitch.” Pulling him down into a brief, but intense kiss. When it was done, Dean playfully shoved him away. “Make sure you keep up with us.”

Throwing a glance at Jax, who had a smirk on his face, he shoved Dean back. “How about you make sure you keep up with us?” As he turned to get into Betty. He saw Jax ditch the smoke and open a door.

Dean barked at Cade to put the cigarette out and get in the car. It was now a race to see who was going to lead their parade of two cars to a place no one wanted to go.

Laughing to himself, he thought that just about summed up their lives to a tee.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Chibs sighed as he closed his apartment door behind Nero. It had been a long day and he wanted nothing more than to just sit his ass on his couch and drink until he wasn’t sure of his own name. “What can I do for ye?”

Nero looked as exhausted as the rest of them. “Jax Teller is on his way?”

“Aye. Tiggy called a few hours ago, they were already somewhere in western Nebraska. Why do ye ask?”

“Wendy has herself convinced that Jax and his wife are going to take the boys.” The tone in the man’s voice telling him that maybe Nero thought so too.

He shook his head. “Tom left the boys with Wendy, signed over legal guardianship. Jax and his old lady would have to go to court for them and they aren’t gonna do that.” 

Nero visibly relaxed. “That’s what I keep tellin’ her.” Nero looked around the apartment for a minute. “You seem sure they won’t go to court. Did you ask them?”

He shook his head. “Don’t need to, they have rap sheets longer than yours or mine.” He gave the older man a mirthless smile. “They aren’t goin’ anywhere near a courthouse.”

Nero nodded. “I’ll let Wendy know.” The man looked around for a moment. “I think when the funerals are over I’m taking Wendy and the kids and going to the farm.”

He wasn’t surprised, after all, that had been Tom’s plan all along. Get the boys out of Charming and away from SAMCRO. He didn’t want Abel and Thomas to be club, he wanted them to have a chance at their own lives.

“Aye, that’s what Tommy wanted.” He started to move the man towards the door. He was ready to start drinkin’. “Call if ye need anything, otherwise, we’ll let ye know when they’re gettin’ here. Jax told Tig that he’d call when they hit the state line.”

“Thanks.” Nero stopped for a second and looked at him with a grave look on his face. “This isn’t going to go well, is it?”

He shrugged because that was as good of an answer as he had for the man. “Don’t know. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Nero nodded again as he made his way out the door. 

Closing the door, he leaned on it for a moment with his eyes closed. When he opened them, there was Gabriel, sitting on his couch, popping a hard candy in his mouth.

“Do ye ever use a door?” Hiding how freaked out he was.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. Maybe he wasn’t being all that stealthy in hiding his freaked-outness. “I figured you might not want to explain an archangel to the true believer that just left.” Gabriel grinned. “Might just give the poor man a heart attack.”

“What do ye want?” He just wanted some peace and goddamned quiet, was that too much to ask for?

“Nothing, really.” Gabriel smiled around the candy in his mouth. “I’m just really enjoying watching your squirm under the guilt and the wondering if the revenge hammer is going to drop on you.” Gabriel stood and wandered around the front room, looking at the very few decorations he had up. “It wouldn’t have worked, what you tried to do. They’re soulmates.” Gabriel turned to him and all the snarkiness was gone and he looked, fuck, angelic. “One soul split in two, never complete without the other.” The angel cocked his head for a moment, and then straightened. “Just like Deano and his Sammy.”

“Why are ye so interested in all this?” Not rising to whatever bait the angel was seeming to lay out there.

Gabriel shrugged. “Because I can be.”

“Yer an angel, aren’t ye acting on God’s orders?” If he remembered his Bible, the angels, even archangels, took their cues from the big guy.

“Pfft.” Gabriel waved a hand. “Daddy showed up for about an hour to put Lucy and Mikey in time-out for a bit, declared the too pretty foursome his ‘firewall against good and evil’.” Gabriel rolled his eyes at that. “Then pissed off back into the wind.” The angel shrugged again. “Who knows where in creation he is. So, the only orders I’m acting on are my own.”

He couldn’t even begin to try and wrap his head around what the angel just told him. Trying to buy himself a moment, he reached in his kutte and pulled out his smokes, Jackie and his old lady had met God? The tape Tiggy had played him and Hap that morning played back through his head; Tiggy’s friend had said that Jax and his old lady, along with these Winchester brothers, had stopped the fucking apocalypse, so who the fuck knew? But the angel’s last comment brought him back to his original question.

“So why are ye so interested? If you’re acting on your own, why are ye here? Why do ye even give a fuck?” He was relatively sure this whole situation was not going to go anywhere close to well, and he wanted to know why a fucking archangel was so interested.

Gabriel shrugged with another smirk on his face. “Like I said before Sport, because I can.” Then the archangel just blinked out of existence.

Grabbing a bottle of whiskey off the kitchen counter, he sat down in the spot the angel had just been in; the residual body heat letting him know he hadn’t hallucinated the last ten minutes.

Cracking the bottle open, he bypassed a glass and took a nice, long pull from the bottle. The burn these days as nearly familiar to him as breathing. Taking another pull, he thought about what little the archangel had really said. Which was really nothing at all. Just some babbling about soulmates and somethin’ about Jackie and the others bein’ some sort of firewall between good and evil.

Continuing to take nips from the bottle as he sat in the silence of his apartment, he shook his head. He suddenly had an awful feeling that SAMCRO may have been pulled out of the frying pan only to be tossed in the fire. He almost could hear Gabriel laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you're enjoying it! Feel free to leave any comments, concerns, or constructive criticisms!
> 
> Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, to all who have stuck with me on this, and other fics and have been kind enough to leave kudos and comments! You have no idea how that gets me through.


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